IV: Dragonborn

Lucan was overjoyed to get the gold claw back, and kept his word to pay us well for its return. We sold our excess gear, bought better armor and still had a couple hundred septims apiece to show for our adventure.

After saying our farewells, we followed the path northeast from Riverwood through the mountains, then headed north as the terrain changed to a mostly open plain with mountains ringing it from all sides. Our destination, Whiterun, was on a tall hill standing out from the rest of the landscape a short walk north.

"So," Lokir began after we had been walking in silence for too long, "you never had any sword training before?"

"No, my parents thought my eye would hinder me," I grumbled. "They knew I was as good as anyone else with a bow. I think they just didn't want me turning into a warrior." I let out a heavy sigh. "Maybe things would have turned out differently if they had let me train. I don't know…"

I found myself telling him about the bandit attack, and about my life before it. After two years, the clawing pain of my loss had receded enough that I could talk about it without crying anymore.

"What about you?" I asked after I had said everything I wanted to. "You haven't said anything about your past."

He shrugged. "My parents had a small farm in Rorikstead. I suppose I was going to inherit it and settle down and tend a farm for the rest of my life, but…" He gritted his teeth. "Last year, we were attacked by vampires at night. They killed my parents before I knew what was happening. The guards heard me screaming and came in time to kill the vampires and save me, but I was the only survivor, and I had to be treated for Porphyric Hemophilia. Once I recovered, they told me that my father had extensive drinking and gambling debts, and the farm had to be sold to cover it. I was left homeless, but had a little money to survive on. It ran out two months ago and I couldn't find any other way to support myself, so I decided to try my hand as a thief. I had just stolen a horse and was trying to ride it into Cyrodiil to sell it when the Imperials mistook me for a Stormcloak."

"So, are you with the Thieves Guild?"

"No, not yet. Their base is way to the east, in Riften, so I heard. I'd have to go there to join, but I've only been at it for a couple of months. I had wanted to work on my skill first, in case you have to pass a test to join."

We neared the base of the hill. I noticed a house up ahead with a barn and fenced yard that contained a pair of dark brown horses. I looked back the way we had come. "That was a letdown. I was sure we'd at least encounter a wolf."

"If you travel enough, you'll long for peaceful trips like this. You don't want to go up against a cave bear or saber cat just yet."

"I guess I'm just restless. I liked fighting more than I thought I would." I frowned. "I didn't want to fight, but once I started… it was fun…"

"Looking to buy a horse?" a man standing by the fence up ahead called, noticing the way I had been eyeing the horses.

"I doubt we could afford one, but how much are they?" I asked.

"1,000 septims."

I winced. "I'll have to check back with you in a couple weeks," I sighed.

We started up the base of the hill. Up ahead, the stone walls of the city rose up several times my height. An armed guard stood on either side of a pair of huge iron-bound wooden doors.

I stopped and whispered, "I've never been allowed inside a gated city before."

"Never?" Lokir asked.

I shook my head. "Not once in all the fifteen years I traveled with my parents. They think all Khajiit are criminals and smugglers."

"What about in Cyrodiil?"

"My parents never went to the large cities. They said that was where the criminals would flock. They had a few bad experiences with thieves before I was born and never got over it."

He looked at the gate, then back at me. "Well, you're the one who actually saw the dragon. I barely remember a thing. If they want to save their city, they have to let you in."

I nodded. "What if the guards won't listen?"

He regarded me for a moment. "Without doing anything illegal, you need to just not take no for an answer. Walk up to them like you belong here."

"Umm… okay…"

"Look at you. You're cringing when you look at the guards. Law-abiding citizens don't have to cringe." He stood in front of me and struck a pose with his head raised haughtily and his chest puffed out. "Try this."

"Won't that just make them stare at my breasts?"

"Ra'wati, they're going to do that anyway."

I gave him a dirty look.

He shook his head sadly. "Do you really still need life sugar-coated for you? What if codpieces were still in style? Look me in the eye and tell me you'd never check them out."

I growled softy, admitting defeat, and tried to mimic him. I raised my head, puffed out my chest and threw back my shoulders. "Like this?"

"Yes, good. Now keep your head up. Look down your nose at them. Don't let them intimidate you. Walk up there like you're a noble who lives there and they're idiots who don't recognize you."

I nodded, took a deep breath and marched proudly up the stone path to the gate, wishing I felt as confident as I looked.

"Where do you think you're going, Khajiit?" one of the guards asked, stepping in front of me right before I reached the gate. "You know the rules. And the city's closed on account of the dragon attack on Helgen."

I'm a noble who belongs here and I'm going to get you thrown into the dungeon, you ignorant rat, I thought. I looked down my nose at him. "I need to see the Jarl…"

"The Jarl?" the guard laughed.

"Yes," I interrupted, refusing to lose my composure. "We escaped the dragon attack at Helgen and bring a message from the people of Riverwood. The Jarl needs to hear about it."

"Helgen?" the other guard asked. "We'd better let her through."

"So there really was a dragon?" the first guard asked.

"Yes, a black one larger than a farmhouse," I said, maintaining my haughty pose and tone. "I barely escaped. Most were not so lucky."

"She saw more than I did," Lokir added quickly, before the guards could decide to only let him inside. "I was injured and barely conscious for most of it, while she was out in the open trying to save people."

The guard looked from me to his fellow guard and back again. "Okay, Khajiit," he sighed, "you can enter, but don't cause any trouble. We'll be watching you."

I gave him a withering look and walked through city gates for the first time in my life.

There was a lot of empty space before me. Individual houses were surrounded by large yards. A cobblestone path curved away up the hill.

"Well, what do you think?" Lokir asked.

"Smaller than I expected," I said with a shrug. "My parents said there were multi-story buildings packed together in rows with narrow streets between them in Cyrodiil. This… it almost looks like a farming village."

"The city of Solitude is more like that. Maybe you'll get to go there someday."

We continued up the path. We came to a round well with a general goods store, apothecary, a tavern and a couple open-air market stalls encircling it. I looked down my nose at each shop, making a mental note in case I needed to unload loot here in the future. To the left, a wide set of stairs were built into a steeper hill. At the top of these stairs was another level area with a large, apparently dead tree in the middle, with benches arranged around the base. A temple of Kynareth and several large houses ringed the area. From there, a final multi-tiered staircase separated by landings meandered up to a large castle built on top of the hill.

"That's Dragonreach," Lokir said, waving at the castle. "Legend says it was built to trap a dragon, back before they were all wiped out. I've heard its skull hangs above the jarl's throne."

I looked back at the town. It looked like all of the buildings off the main path were houses. It wasn't how I expected walled cities to be arranged. I shrugged and turned to the castle. We walked along a path under a roof held up by decorative arches, up to a set of doors as large as those leading into the city. There were no guards to challenge our presence, so we let ourselves in.

The doors opened into the throne room of the castle, or the great hall, I wasn't sure. The building was not as grand as I had expected from my parents' stories, appearing to be constructed mainly of wooden beams rather than stone, but its size was still impressive, with three levels. We walked through the first part of the room flanked by decorative pillars that must have been carved from whole tree trunks and up one short set of stairs to the second level, where a large lit firepit was set into the floor, with a row of long dining tables on either side. Another short set of stairs led to the third level, where a throne was set in the middle almost against the back wall. The jarl was seated on the throne, arguing with several people.

"Stop!" a Dunmer woman ordered as we approached. She came down the stairs and blocked our path, giving me a disdainful look. "What are you doing inside the city, Khajiit? What business do you have interrupting the Jarl?"

I raised my head even higher and gave her my haughtiest glare. "We were at Helgen when the dragon attacked. We also bring a plea for aid from the people of Riverwood. My companion was injured during the attack and saw much less than I did."

"Oh," she said, still sounding disapproving. "I see why they let you in the gates. Follow me, then."

Jarl Balgruuf had overheard our exchange. "So, it's true about the dragon? What can you tell me about Helgen? Were you there trading?"

Lokir gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze, so I took a deep breath and stepped forward. "No, I lost my family and caravan to bandits two years ago. We were separately caught up in a battle between Jarl Ulfric and the Imperials. They had us lined up at the chopping block when the dragon appeared."

"Hmm," Balgruuf said disapprovingly. "At least you're honest about your criminal past."

"Criminal past?" I spluttered. "My companion and I were merely in the area and I was armed with a hunting bow for subsistence purposes when the fight broke out. They knew we were not Imperial soldiers, so they decided to execute us with no evidence." I hesitated, then slipped my fingers into my collar and pulled out my Talos amulet. "However, I was wearing this necklace I took off my mother's body after she was murdered by bandits. I have spent most of my life either in Cyrodiil or on my own, so I had no idea Talos worship was illegal." I slipped the necklace back into my shirt.

Balgruuf looked over at Lokir, noting he had not denied the criminal allegations, then waved his hand dismissively. "No matter. If you two prove useful, I can have you pardoned for any crimes you have committed before. Now continue."

I continued telling him what little I could about the dragon, Jarl Ulfric's escape, and how Riverwood had no guards to protect it, should the dragon head there next.

"I'll send a detachment of soldiers to Riverwood at once," Jarl Balgruuf said once I had finished. "For now, my court magician Farengar could use some help from a couple of adventures like you. Come with me."

He rose from his throne and led us into a room off the right side of the main hall. A Nord wearing magician's robes was seated at a desk covered with soul gems, potions and potion ingredients. An Arcane Enchanter and an alchemy lab stood against the walls.

"Farengar, I think I've found some people to help you with your little dragon project," the Jarl said. He introduced us briefly, then returned to his throne to resume his argument with his advisers.

Farengar rose from his desk and looked us over critically. "I suppose you look more competent than the usual brutes Balgruuf sends my way," he observed, giving me a curious look.

"Did you hear what we told the Jarl about the dragon?" Lokir asked.

"Yes. Now I wonder if you two might fetch an item for me."

I didn't like the way he said fetch. "Okay, where do you need us to go and what are we looking for?" I asked.

"Straight to the point, eh? I like that. I've heard rumors that there's a 'dragonstone,' an old carved stone tablet, in an ancient Nord burial mound called Bleak Falls Barrow."

"Wait," I said. I rummaged around in my pack and pulled out the pentagon-shaped tablet we had found in the draugr Overlord's coffin. "This thing?"

Farengar laughed. "Well, I'm impressed. Yes, that's exactly what I was looking for."

"What is it, exactly?"

"My research says it's a map of old dragon burial sites. I have a theory about their return…" He shook his head and took the heavy tablet from me. "But that's none of your concern."

"So, do we get a reward for being so prompt?" Lokir asked.

Farengar looked around the room quickly. "Well, I'm not sure I have much you'd be interested in. The Jarl will certainly reward you…" He waved at a stack of dusty old books on a table in the corner. "I suppose you could have those old spellbooks. I have no use for them."

I turned to the table. "What level spells are they?"

"Oh, don't worry, they're all for novices," he said condescendingly. "Turn Lesser Undead, Oakflesh, Healing Hands…"

I had vaulted over the desk and pounced on the stack of books like a predator before I realized what I was doing. "Thank the Nine!" I practically squealed when the first volume I picked up turned out to be Healing Hands. I flopped down on the floor and opened it.

"Is she all right?" I dimly heard Farengar asking, sounding vaguely worried.

"She's been talking about that spell constantly for as long as I've known her," Lokir exaggerated.

I quickly read the volume, feeling the knowledge seeping into my mind, the book slowly dissolving as I absorbed its contents. It soon vanished in a cloud of dust, leaving me with a healing spell flickering around inside my head. "Finally," I breathed. I picked up the next book, Healing, and absorbed it as well.

"Feel better now?" Lokir asked once I stood up again, coated with the dust of many new spells.

"Oh, yeah, adventuring is going to be much safer for both of us now…" I trailed off and frowned. I had never actually used magic before. Sudden doubt crept into my mind.

"Something wrong?" Lokir asked.

"I need to test something," I said slowly. I walked up to him and put my hand under his chin, turning his head to the proper angle. He gave me a confused look and opened his mouth to ask what I was doing, but before he could, I drew back my fist and socked him in the nose.

He stumbled back with a startled cry, but before he could do anything, I had grabbed his arms and focused on my new knowledge of Healing Hands. His broken nose healed before my eye. "YES!" I shouted, hopping up in the air and spinning around in my elation, my tail striking several soul gems and knocking them to the floor.

"Hey, watch it!" Farengar called angrily, but he hung back warily.

Lokir rubbed his nose and gave me a baleful look. "You could have warned me…"

"And had you brace yourself? No, I needed to be sure I could heal an actual wound."

"You still could have warned me," he grumbled.

"Hey, better this way than finding out when you're dying in battle, right?" I frowned. "Hang on, what if I don't really know how to heal myself?" I put my hands down by my sides and presented my face to him. "Hit me."

"W-what?" he stuttered.

"Hit me!" I shouted. "I need to be sure I can heal myself!"

He backed away from me. Farengar had also backed away, looking at me as if I had lost it. "Ra'wati, I'm sure if you mastered one novice spell on your first try, any novice spell should work…"

"Oh, you're impossible," I growled. I turned my back on him and drew my iron dagger.

My experiment was interrupted by the door to the great hall banging open, followed by an exhausted voice screaming, "Dragon!" I quickly sheathed my dagger and followed Farengar and Lokir out to the great hall.

A Nord guardsman was being helped into one of the chairs at a table by other guards. Jarl Balgruuf and the Dunmer woman were running over to him. "What happened?" Balgruuf called.

"A dragon came from the south," the guard panted. "I was at the Western Watchtower. They told me to warn the city while they tried to fight it. I've never run so fast in my life…"

"Was it attacking?" Jarl Balgruuf asked.

"No, it was just sort of… circling," the guard said.

Balgruuf nodded. "You've done well. Return to the barracks and rest. Irileth," he said, turning to the Dunmer woman, "gather some troops and head to the Western Watchtower. I don't want this to be a suicide mission. We need information on that dragon, not a dead battalion."

"Yes, Jarl," she said, turning away and running for the door.

"You two," Balgruuf said, turning to me and Lokir. "You know more about dragon attacks than anyone else here. You go with Irileth."

"Um… okay," I said, too surprised at first to argue that running in terror shouldn't count as much experience.

We followed Irileth and half a dozen Whiterun guards to the Western Watchtower. The place was a mess now, with fires burning and great chunks of the stone wall strewn around its base, but there was no dragon in sight.

"It's definitely been here," Irileth said. "Spread out."

I walked up to the tower. It was circular, with a wooden staircase spiraling up to the top. Lokir and I climbed it and surveyed the surrounding landscape.

"There it is!" I heard one of the guards shouting. I heard the dragon roar, then begin to breathe fire. I ran to the side of the tower and drew my bow.

"Do you really think arrows will do any good against that thing?" Lokir asked as he drew his own bow.

"I don't have anything else to fight it with, unless it lands," I said.

I aimed at the dragon's back and fired as it flew low beneath us. I saw no reaction as my arrow struck it. Dozens of other arrows followed. The dragon just kept flying, roaring and breathing fire on the ground.

For several minutes, we peppered the dragon with arrows. Nothing seemed to change.

"What if it's immune to arrows?" I moaned, fear starting to take over. "We're all going to die here…"

I had barely finished speaking when the dragon made a heavy, ungraceful landing on the ground. It wobbled slightly, then breathed fire at the soldiers charging at it.

"It's wounded!" Lokir exclaimed. He aimed his bow and let another arrow fly. "We can win this, after all!"

Down below, as the dragon finished its fire blast and paused to draw breath, the guards attacked its face with their swords. The dragon began snapping at them. One of the guards lunged forward and struck the dragon across the jaw. It jerked its head back, raising it up like a snake, them struck down at the guard, swallowing him whole.

"By the Nine!" I gasped, watching in horror as the squirming bulge traveled down the dragon's neck and disappeared inside its body. I turned and ran for the stairs.

"Ra'wati, wait, we can fight from up here!" Lokir called, grabbing my tail.

"You do that," I snapped, jerking my tail free. "I'm not hiding behind anyone else." By the time I reached the base of the tower steps, I had put away my bow and drawn my sword.

The dragon was still on the ground, biting at Irileth and two guards. The remaining three guards had backed off and were panting on the ground a short distance away.

I ran at the dragon. It had its right side facing me. I leaped and hacked into its side with everything I had. It roared, but was too busy to turn to face me, so I regained my footing and kept hacking at it.

The dragon suddenly swung its head around and slammed it into me, sending me flying. I crashed to the ground, coming to rest against a boulder, feeling ribs break. The pain stole my breath briefly.

I can heal myself now, I thought, desperately clinging to consciousness. I called up the knowledge and relaxed as the pain receded. I shakily crawled to my feet. A part of me wanted to retreat, but another part was bathing in the sudden rush of excitement the prospect of a battle brought on. I collected my sword and ran to meet the dragon again.

"You idiot!" I heard Lokir growl right behind me, though I pretended he was addressing the dragon. Next thing I knew, he was at my right side. We both ran back to its right side and began attacking again.

The dragon finally jerked away. It backed off a few steps, then turned to face Lokir and me.

Too fast for either of us to react, its head darted forward. Its jaws closed over Lokir, biting down into his waist. It picked him up and swung its head away violently to my right, beginning to shake him like a dog killing a rat.

"Gods, no!" I screamed. I raised my sword.

The dragon's head whipped to the right, then violently jerked back to the left. I jumped at it with my sword over my head, swinging it down with everything I had as the dragon's head swung back in my direction.

I struck the dragon in the neck, half-severing it.

I toppled to the ground unceremoniously. Behind me, I heard the dragon let out a final, strangled cry, muffled by Lokir's body still in its mouth. Then its long neck fell with a heavy thud.

I rolled over and jumped to my feet, ready to finish it off, but I could see it was dying. Its limbs writhed feebly, digging furrows into the rocky soil, then its body seemed to relax.

Suddenly fire appeared around the base of its neck and around its wing membranes. Within a matter of seconds, the fire spread all over the dragon's body. I heard it crackling briefly, then a wind rose up, just like the strange wind at the wall in Bleak Falls Barrow. The wind began to roar as it swirled around me, drawing streamers of fire with it, drowning everything else out. I closed my eyes and held my arms out, suddenly feeling a strange sense of energy washing over me and settling into my mind. I could feel the heat of the fire, but it was refreshing rather than unpleasant. As the wind slowly died down again, I thought I heard the strange chanting once more, then it was gone.

I opened my eyes and looked at the burning dragon, but it was nothing more than a bleached skeleton now.

Lokir was still protruding halfway from the dragon's jaws, his body and clothing untouched by the flames. The surrounding grass was also untouched. Before I could take this all in, I heard Lokir groan softly.

I rushed forward and grabbed his arms where they reached through the gap in the dragon's bottom jaw, jerking him away from the skeleton.

"My legs," Lokir gasped feebly. "I can't feel my legs. Did he bite them off?"

I pulled his shirt up and surveyed the damage. The dragon's teeth had pierced his torso deeply, severing his spine. I was afraid to look at his belly. I gritted my teeth, put my hands on his back and focused on Healing Hands. "I'll make it better," I hissed, closing my eyes and focusing everything I had on the spell.

I heard a rustling and a moan from farther along the dragon's skeleton. I looked over and saw the soldier the dragon had swallowed was lying on the ground inside the dragon's ribcage, weakly trying to sit up. "Somebody help him!" I shouted.

The others broke from their shocked trance and ran over to help their comrade. I turned back to Lokir. "Can you feel them yet?" I asked. I could see his wounds slowly closing.

"I… I don't know…" he wheezed. "It tingles…"

I heard one of the guards walk up behind me. "You… you're the Dragonborn," he breathed.

"The what?" I asked, not looking away from Lokir. The healing was tapering off, and I realized I had used up all my magicka.

"The dragon's soul," he said softly. "You absorbed the dragon's soul, didn't you?"

"I have no idea," I said tersely. I frantically pulled two magicka potions from my pack, chugged them and went back to healing Lokir.

"They said in the old days, back when there were still dragons, there were people called Dragonborn, who could use the Voice without training, just as dragons do. Do you know how to do it? Can you Shout?"

"Busy," I growled between my teeth. If he wanted me to shout at him, he was certainly on the right path…

"That wall with words carved into it…" Lokir panted, sounding weaker.

"Don't you dare die on me," I growled. "You still owe me a few more lessons with the sword…"

"That word you heard after you touched the wall…"

"Yes, we can worry about that later. Save your breath." His wounds were almost closed now. He started to move his legs again.

"A Word Wall?" the soldier asked excitedly. "I've heard legends of those. So you must be the Dragonborn! Can you use the Voice?"

"Busy," I repeated.

"Try the word you learned from the Word Wall. If you really are Dragonborn…"

I gritted my teeth until my jaw ached. My magicka had run out once more, but Lokir's wounds were mostly superficial now. "I think I can take it from here," he panted. So I nodded, stood and turned to face the guard.

You asked for it. I took a deep breath, focused on the new sensation of power the dragon's death had given me, and shouted, "FUS!"

A wave of energy seemed to project from my mouth. The guard was knocked off his feet. Another standing a few feet behind him was staggered, but remained standing.

"Just like that overlord…" Lokir whispered.

"Dragonborn," the fallen guard breathed.

"Enough!" Irileth interrupted disapprovingly. "This is no time for foolishly going on about things you know nothing about. You – Ra'wati? – go back to the Jarl and tell him what happened. I'll take care of everything here for now."

"But Lokir…"

She sighed, having seen how I refused to be interrupted while healing him. "Fine. There's a carriage just outside of Whiterun, near the foot of the hill. Go fetch it and load our injured on it."

I nodded and finally rose to my feet. As I turned back to Whiterun, the ground suddenly began to rumble. Off to my right, from the top of the tallest mountain in sight, I heard a sound like thunder, then several voices calling in a language I didn't understand. The ground seemed to shake from the volume of the voices.

"What was that?" I asked once everything had quieted down.

Irileth no longer looked disapproving. "The Greybeards. They haven't spoken in centuries…"

The soldier I had knocked down interrupted, "They're calling to you. You really are the Dragonborn!"

SOUNDTRACK: "Who We Are" by Red, "Trenches" by Pop Evil, "Born To Rise" by Redlight King, "Frontline" by Pillar, "Stand My Ground" by Within Temptation, "Now" by Fireflight, "Burn MF" by Five Finger Death Punch, "Dark Wings" by Within Temptation, "We Are One" by 12 Stones, "It Has Begun" by Starset.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: The codpiece really used to be a common fashion accessory for men centuries ago. (I spend a lot of time on Tumblr, so I know some people will see that exchange as trivializing rape culture. All I can say is it's not meant to be passing judgment on the issue, just making a humorous observation on human nature.)

As you might be able to tell from the spellbook scene, Ra'wati is not your typical stoic bada$$ hero. As the story progresses, she is going to realize she has a cold-blooded, bloodthirsty killer in her soul, but she's always going to be a bit quirky.