Chapter Seven:

The Dragon Mirmulnir

Irileth led us out of Dragonsreach at a run. People who saw us pass looked at us for only a moment before going about their business again, completely oblivious to what was going on. They would know when the roars would reach them.

We finally met a contingent of four guards at the main gates of Whiterun. Milos and I stood behind them while Irileth paced in front of us, thinking about what she could say.

"Here's the situation," she started. "A Dragon is attacking the western watchtower."

"A Dragon?" one of the guards exclaimed.

"Now we're in for it," another grumbled.

Irileth met their eyes (which were hidden behind helmets). "You heard right! I said a Dragon! I don't much care where it came from or who sent it. What I do know is that it's made the mistake of attacking Whiterun!"

"But Housecarl..." one of the guards gulped against his better judgment, "how can we fight a Dragon?"

"That's a fair question," Irileth replied quietly. "None of us have ever seen a Dragon before, or expected to face one in battle. But we are honorbound 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?"

A guard looked back at us. "We're so dead..." he muttered while the rest of the guards supported Irileth.

"But it's more than our honor that is at stake here," Irileth continued. "Think of it—the first Dragon seen in Skyrim since the last age. The glory of killing it is ours, if you're with me! Now what do you say? Shall we go kill us a Dragon?"

"Yeah!"

"Damn right!"

I grinned at Milos. "Well, maybe this one'll be nice and just let us kill it."

"I doubt it," he replied, "but it'd be a nice change from what we've recently been experiencing."

"Let's move out," Irileth commanded.

We followed Irileth and the guards out the gates and down the path to the western watchtower. What had once been a mighty tower of stone was nothing more that a pile of smoldering rubble, with corpses of guards strewn about, most of them charred until they would be unrecognizable to their families. I resisted the urge to plug my nose from the stench.

Irileth led us all behind a rock, where we had a good view of the ruined tower. "No signs of any Dragons right now, but it sure looks like he's been here. I know it looks bad, but we've got to figure out what happened. And if that Dragon is still stalking around somewhere." Irileth drew her sword, and the guards did so as well. "Spread out and look for survivors. We need to know what we're dealing with."

We approached the ruined tower warily, some of the guards scanning the skies while others slowed their pace further. Milos and I were ahead of the group in no time. My heart was hammering in my chest when I was forced to step over some corpses to get closer to the tower. I wondered if this was going to be the same black Dragon that was at Helgen. He had been a fearsome beast, and not one I wanted to see again any time soon.

I saw movement inside the watchtower and found a way in after climbing on some stones.

"No!" a man's voice yelled as I approached the opening. "Get back! It's still here somewhere! Hroki and Tor just got grabbed when they tried to make a run for it!" I could see he was a guard, as he was wearing the yellow regalia of Whiterun, but he'd lost his helmet, and he was shaking in a corner of the tower. "Kynareth save us," he muttered, "here he comes again!"

I heard a roar in the distance, but it started to get closer. The roar made goosebumps appear almost immediately on my arms, as I remembered hearing the Dragon at Helgen speak. I looked to the mountains in the distance, dreading seeing the black Dragon fly towards us, with its red eyes intent on finishing what it had started in Helgen.

"Talos save us!" a guard screamed. "It's a Dragon!"

It wasn't the Dragon from Helgen. This dragon was brown, with a silver underside and very few spikes adorning his head. He roared at us as he came closer, his massive wings beating slowly.

The guard in the tower pushed Milos aside and bumped into me, but ran right out of the tower, intent on escape. The Dragon dived, its speed incredible, and scooped the guard up in one gulp of its mouth. As the Dragon banked towards us, the blood of the unfortunate guard rained down on Irileth and the rest of the guards, some of the remaining body parts even coming back to the ground.

I grabbed my bow and started to fire arrows at it as fast as I could, but my hands were fumbling and shaking. I was as likely to hit the Dragon as I was the broad side of a house.

The Dragon landed atop the ruined tower and looked down at us. I could almost see it sneering at us, in a similar manner that Milos would.

"Thurri du hin sille ko Sovngarde!" the Dragon roared at us. "Overlords devour your soul in Sovngarde!"

There it was again! I'd heard another Dragon speak! At the very least, I had confirmation that I wasn't mad... Or that I was.

The Dragon leapt off the tower and barreled towards us. I switched my bow for my sword and charged at the Dragon, forgetting my fears so I could (hopefully) kill it. I ran into the plain across from the tower and started shouting all sorts of curses (most having been learnt from the sailors in Anvil) to the Dragon to get its attention.

It worked. The Dragon turned his attention towards me and landed on the ground. For a second, the Dragon and I locked gazes. Yellow eyes bored into my green. Mirmulnir. For some reason, I knew the name of this Dragon. I wondered for a moment if it knew mine. I took precious few seconds to bunch up the muscles in my legs. I was right to do so. The Mirmulnir loosed a breath of fire at my position, and I managed to dive out of the way. I hacked at it, cutting through its wing to bone. Mirmulnir didn't seem to like it very much, because he stepped on me.

"Krif krin. Pruzah!" the Dragon growled. "Fight courageously. Good!"

I was on my back, gasping for air, when Milos, Irileth and the guards finally caught up. Mirmulnir dug his claws into the earth and around me as I struggled to get up from under its foot, but his claws acted as a cage. The next thing I knew, Milos had buried his greatsword into Mirmulnir's tail, and Mirmulnir had taken off... with me clasped in his foot.

"Brit grah. Beautiful battle. I had forgotten what fine sport you mortals can provide!" The Dragon almost seemed to be laughing.

When we were a good few hundred feet in the air, I finally managed to wriggle my sword arm out of the make-shift claw prison. I hacked into Mirmulnir's leg again and again, hoping that the Dragon would release me. Before he did, one of his claws pierced my gut, drawing blood. I started to fall.

The arrows had ceased, probably for fear of hitting me, so at least I was lucky in that department. Mirmulnir came flying at me, his jaws open and ready to devour me. I released my sword, letting it fall ahead of me, and grabbed my bow. I drew an arrow and aimed it directly at the Dragon's head, gauging how fast I was falling in hopes that I wouldn't miss the shot.

As Mirmulnir came close, I loosed the arrow. It missed his brain, but hit his eye. He roared and missed me, but I bounced on his skull and managed to roll (painfully) all the way to his tail. I hit the ground painfully, just seconds after Mirmulnir had plowed into the ground, raising the land and some of the stones. Milos was there to help me up, and then he was off to help Irileth and the guards fight the Dragon, who was getting back to its feet.

"You are brave," it said. "Balaan hokoron. Worthy enemies. Your defeat brings me honor!"

I cast a healing spell on myself, grabbed my fallen sword and ran at the Dragon, not waiting for my wounded flesh to knit together or my head to stop ringing.

Thank the Nine I managed to hit it! I thought with relief. I would've been eaten or died when I hit the ground if I hadn't!

Mirmulnir swung his massive, wounded tail around, slamming the guards away and killing two as they were impaled on some wood from the watchtower. Irileth swung her sword on the underside of the Dragon, cutting him, but he snapped at her with his massive jaws and breathed fire at her. Irileth's arm caught on fire, and she desperately beat at the flames, retreating for the moment. Milos was pinned by the Dragon under its wing, and he was pushing with all of his strength to get away. I sprinted, ignoring the pain and how stupid I was being, and just as Mirmulnir was about to take a bite out of Milos' head, I skidded in front of its mouth and the Dragon bit down on my sword instead. It shook me from side-to-side, but I refused to release my sword. Mirmulnir threw his head into the air and released my sword, then opened his mouth wide to consume me whole.

I twisted in the air, begging the Nine to help me with silent prayers, and managed to avoid his jaws, driving my sword into the Dragon's brain. It roared in agony and released Milos, stumbling around and losing its strength.

"Dovahkiin...!" it rumbled as we met eyes once more. "Dragonborn...!" Mirmulnir's head hit the ground, and I released my sword again to roll onto the ground, panting with exhaustion and sheer terror. "N-No...!"

Mirmulnir's entire, massive body went limp, finally defeated. Its remaining yellow eye glazed over in its death, and stared at me as I sat on the ground, breathing deeply, staring at the blade deep in his head. I was shaking, glad it was over, but I knew that the black Dragon was still out there, and there could be more Dragons like this one.

Milos crouched and put an arm around my shoulder to stop me from shaking. "Taryn, are you okay?" he asked. "No bones broken?"

I shook my head. "N-No. Mirmulnir managed to stop my fall. Unintentionally, of course. He was trying to eat me."

"Mirmulnir?" Milos repeated.

"The name of the Dragon. Didn't you hear it speak?"

"I heard it speak some common. I never heard it say that."

"It... uh, didn't."

Milos seemed like he was trying to think of a reply to that while he was helping me up. Maybe I was just a bit crazy.

"Are you two okay?" Irileth asked. "Wounds?"

I examined Milos and saw a few cuts across his chest that had gotten through his armour. I summoned some magicka and healed the cut, and took away the scar as well, despite what he'd said about them.

"None anymore," Milos told the Dark Elf, a bit of sadness in his voice (from the loss of his new scar, no doubt). "What about you?"

"I cast a spell. I'll be all right." Irileth surveyed the damage. "Three guards dead, two wounded, but we'll survive. Those guards will be honored."

Milos looked at the new corpses around the battlefield. I was about ready to get back to Whiterun when I heard a burning behind me, and felt the heat of fire. Worried that the Dragon wasn't really dead, I whirled around, suddenly groping for my bow. But the Dragon, Mirmulnir, was dead. I released the bow on my back and breathed a sigh of relief. I didn't know if I could take on any more Dragons for a while. But the sound and feeling of something burning didn't leave.

"Milos?" I called, beckoning him closer to me. "The Dragon... its burning."

Milos stood by my side while we watched Mirmulnir's scales break from his body, like ashes in a fire. Indeed, they glowed orange and evaporated into thin air, but the orange aura remained. It floated above the Dragon's body, slowly sifting in the wind, but didn't move from its place. The Dragon was soon nothing more than bones with a sword stuck in its skull, but still looked menacing.

"Taryn, move back," Milos warned me, putting a hand on my shoulder as he stared at the orange aura. "I don't like this."

"What's happening?" a guard slurred. He and his companion had finally returned to consciousness.

"Everybody, get back!" Irileth ordered.

Milos moved me behind him and gripped his greatsword tightly. He'd always hated when he was faced against something he didn't know, and that was why he'd gone through the trouble of learning all sorts of lore and legends, just-in-case he came up against something like a draugr. I knew this orange aura was unsettling him.

The aura suddenly blasted forward, towards Milos and I. It passed through Milos, barely affecting him at all. That was a relief. But my hope that it would do the same to me was incredibly short-lived. As if it were a battering ram, it slammed violently into me—inside of me—and sent me flying. When I hit the ground, I was rolling for a time before I came to a complete, painful stop. I felt like I was on fire. My bones and muscles felt like they were liquefying from the sheer heat. I felt sick, but the feeling left quickly, and I was just left with a slight fever... and a few bruises from rocks I'd landed on. Not to mention a word that had popped into my head.

"Taryn!" Milos was with me in a second. "Taryn! By the Eight, are you all right?"

I rubbed my forehead. "Ugh... That kind of hurt..."

"Kind of? You damn idiot! You were blown almost twenty feet away! What the hell happened?"

"I dunno," I admitted. "Maybe it's a Dragon attack or something?"

"An attack that's inside your body! How do I get it out?" Milos grabbed his greatsword.

"Woah!" I exclaimed, putting my hands in front of my body in a sad imitation of defense. "I don't think cutting or stabbing me is gonna get it out!"

A guard suddenly ran up to me. His helmet was off, either discarded or ripped off during the fight, and the look he gave me was just... it almost seemed like awe.

"I can't believe it!" he breathed. "You're... Dragonborn...!"

One of my eyebrows rose. "Dragonborn? Last I checked I didn't have wings on my back and a fetish for eating two-legged things."

"In the very oldest tales, back from when there were still Dragons in Skyrim, the Dragonborn would slay Dragons and steal their power," the guard explained as Irileth and the other guard approached. "That's what you did, isn't it?" the guard pressed. "Absorbed that Dragon's power?"

I blinked. "I-I don't know what happened to me. I was just thrown the length of a Dragon when it hit me."

"There's only one way to find out," the guard said. "Try to Shout... that would prove it. According to the old legends, only the Dragonborn can Shout without training, the way the Dragons do."

"Dragonborn?" the other guard repeated. "What are you talking about?"

"That's right! My grandfather used to tell stories of the Dragonborn." Another guard, probably sent by the Jarl, approached us. "Those born with the Dragon Blood in 'em. Like old Tiber Septim himself."

"I never heard of Tiber Septim killing any Dragons," another guard spoke up. It seemed the Jarl had sent us reinforcements, a bit too late.

"There weren't any Dragons then, idiot," the first guard growled. "They're just coming back for the first time in... forever. But the tales tell of the Dragonborn who could kill Dragons and steal their power." The guard looked at me, dead in the eye. "You must be one!"

"What do you say, Irileth?" the skeptical guard asked. "You're being awfully quiet."

"Come on, Irileth," the second guard said, "tell us, do you believe in this Dragonborn business?"

Irileth narrowed her eyes at the guards. "Hmph. Some of you would be better off keeping quiet than flapping your gums on matters you don't know anything about. Here's a dead Dragon, and that's something I definitely understand. Now we know we can kill them. But I don't need some mystical Dragonborn. Someone who can put down a Dragon is more than enough for me."

"You wouldn't understand, Housecarl. You ain't a Nord."

"I've been all across Tamriel. I've seen plenty of things just as outlandish as this. I'd advise you all to trust in the strength of your sword arm over tales and legends."

Milos, again, helped me up. He'd probably noticed I the bruises I'd gotten. "Whatever it was, we should report to the Jarl that the Dragon is dead. That is the main concern."

The guards nodded and made their way back to Whiterun, Irileth leading them, with Milos and I hanging in the back. My right leg was hurting every time I used it to walk, and I had to grab my sword out of Mirmulnir's skull. Milos made me put an arm around his shoulders, and then he put his closest hand on the other side of my waist to help me walk.

For once, we actually didn't have anything to say to each other. I was still trying to wrap my head around what had happened. A word had come into my head after that orange thing came after me, but it was just "force", just like the word that had glowed on the wall we'd found in Bleak Falls Barrow.

I was sure Milos wanted to ask me something, but despite my silence, he said nothing. I was hoping that something—anything—would break the silence.

"Hey! You two!"

Thank the Divines, I thought with relief. I think they're spoiling me now.

A Nord man was running up to us, at near full speed. He was wearing fur armour (to show off his muscular chest, no doubt), had a greatsword on his back, and looked a lot like many of the Nords in Skyrim. Blonde hair, but only the stubble of a beard, and blue eyes.

"What?" Milos asked, eyeing the Nord suspiciously.

"I'm sorry, but I've been trying to find you two for a few hours!" He didn't appear out of breath for running all the way from Whiterun, which I found a bit odd, but it didn't irk me. "Aela, one of my shield-sisters, told me of an Argonian and an Imperial traveling together who helped her and some of my shield-siblings with a giant they had been contracted to take down." He smiled at us. "It takes a lot to get Aela to praise someone's combat abilities, let me tell you that!"

"So?"

The Nord looked slightly embarrassed. "Oh, sorry. I just wanted to welcome you to Whiterun!" He eyed me, and then saw my leg. "Can I help?"

"By all means," I said before Milos could object. "And anyway, thanks for the welcome, but the Dragon already did that."

"I heard from my friends in the guard that there was a Dragon," the Nord admitted, putting my other arm across his shoulders. "What're your names?"

"I'm Taryn Greystone," I said. "This is Milos."

"Hides-His-Heart," Milos corrected. "Milos to my friends."

"Understandable," the Nord said, shrugging. "My name's Hiemdall Jorganson. I'm a Companion of the Jorrvaskr in Whiterun. As is Aela, one of the women fighting the giant. Have you considered joining the Companions? It's honest work."

I chuckled. "Well, we just got into the city, so maybe not quite yet."

Suddenly, the ground started to shake. We fought for our balance, and then heard something.

"DOVAHKIIN!"

Once the ground stopped shaking, Hiemdall shook his head. "Now, what was that about? The Greybeards calling for the Dragonborn? Is there even a Dragonborn now?"

All I could do was laugh quietly.