"This is bullshit. This is absolute bullshit." Bishop's voice was something akin to a whine as we walked along Whiterun's road on the way to the Western Watchtower. "I can't believe we're actually going out to fight a dragon."

"I'd ask what your problem is, but then we'd be here all day." I sniffed and rubbed at my nose, the cold weather starting to get to me.

"Ladyship, you've got a death wish," he reiterated. "And I'm just dumb enough to follow you."

Irileth cleared her throat. "Enough chit-chat," she growled, glaring with her unsettling crimson eyes. We've got a dragon to kill, which means no twittering like a pair of gossiping old ladies."

I bristled, already pissed. "You know what, you blue-faced bitch? I don't have to come help you. It's been fucking days since I so much as laid down. I could go get a room at the Bannered Mare and just ignore you and the dragon." I leaned in. "Don't fucking test me." The Dunmer looked like she wanted to punch me in the face, but simply snorted and hurried off to the main gate. In the meantime, Bishop looked at me with awe.

"Ladyship?" Bishop nudged my side.

"What?"

"That was fucking hot." I felt my cheeks go red and elected to ignore him.

"Good for you," I mumbled, quickening my step to trail after Irileth. "But it was true. I'm exhausted."

Bishop furrowed his brows. "Then why aren't we just resting? We'd both prefer it, and I'm tempted to just let you be and face that dragon."

"Then why aren't you?" I smiled inwardly as Bishop scrambled to answer, Karnwyr barking in his stead. "Mmhmm. Yup." That's what I thought. We hurried to join Irileth at the front gate, Irileth was trying to hype up the guards.

"Here's the situation," she began. "A dragon is attacking the Western Watchtower." The guards burst out in protests and shocked remarks.

"What?!"

"A dragon?!"

"We're in for it now."

"You heard right!" Irileth shouted, putting her hands at the small of her back and beginning to pace. "I said a dragon! I don't much care where it came from or who sent it. What I do know is it's made the mistake of attacking Whiterun!"

One of the guards started twiddling his fingers, clearly afraid. "But Housecarl," he mumbled, looking at his boots. "How can we attack a dragon?" I expected Irileth to respond with hostility, or even to call the guard a coward. However, she seemed more sympathetic than I'd expected.

"That's a fair question," she admitted. "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 fall!" Her hands clenched into fists. "This dragon is threatening our homes, our families." Her voice hardened into a challenge. "Could you call yourselves Nords if you ran from this monster? Are you going to let me face this thing alone?" A collective sigh from the guards later, they reluctantly agreed.

"We're so dead," the same guard replied despondently. Still, it was an acceptance to run to battle.

Ignoring the guard as though he hadn't spoken, Irileth continued her spiel. "But it's more than our honor at stake here!" she insisted. "Think of it- the first dragon seen in Skyrim since the last age!" I wonder if she's counting Martin Septim's avatar, or if the 'last age' was the Second Era when the dragons attacked Elsweyr. "The glory of killing it is ours if you're with me!" The Dark Elf's shout shook me from my thoughts. "Now, what do you say? Shall we go kill us a dragon?" At first, silence. Then:

"Yeah!"

"Damn right!"

"Hell, yeah!"

Irileth drew her sword and pointed at the sky. "Off we go! Let's move out!" The patrol charged out of the front gates while Bishop and I took a moment to stare at each other, impressed.

"Damn," Bishop muttered, crossing his arms. "I cannot believe that Elf broad managed to convince a bunch of terrified asses to face a damn dragon."

"True," I responded, "but I also convinced your ass to face a damn dragon."

Bishop frowned. "Fair enough, but look at it from my perspective- if it'll get me laid, I'll do damn near anything."

I found myself laughing. "Nice try, but it won't. Now-" I drew my own sword in a mockery of Irileth's stance. "Let's go kill a dragon."

...

"Hmmph. Could they be any slower?" Bishop and I were standing near a large boulder not too far from the Western Watchtower. We'd cut across the plains, meaning we reached the fiery site of the attack before Irileth's patrol. In agreement with his master, Karnwyr howled lowly. "We're here to fight a dragon, and they're moving like snails." Bishop ran his hand along his bow, and I realized for the first time that he was actually nervous. I'd never seen him nervous before, not even when he'd rescued me from the first dragon in Helgen.

Why was he nervous now?

I prepared myself to ask him about it, but all three of our focuses were stolen by the torchlight coming from down the way glinting off the wet street. The guards had finally arrived, and upon seeing my own little patrol, headed toward us. Irileth spoke first, shielding her eyes from the smoke and staring at the watchtower. "No signs of any dragon right now, but it sure looks like he's been here."

"Madam Housecarl?" Bishop said mockingly, lowering his bow. "I'd say the fire and destruction is enough of a 'sign.'"

Once again, the Dunmer ignored the surly Nord and continued speaking. "I know it looks bad, but we've got to figure out what happened, and if that dragon is still skulking around somewhere. Spread out and look for survivors," she ordered her men. "We need to know what we're dealing with." As the guards ran out to obey, she turned to me with a face so sour I might have thought she'd had a lemon in her mouth. "And you. Keep that ranger of yours under control. This is serious, and we've no time for a row." With that, she ran after her patrol.

I pressed my lips together. "Bishop, she's got a point."

He feigned shock. "What? I have no idea what she's talking about. I'm the very soul of politeness and manners!"

Cracking a smile, I shook my head. "Whatever you say." I pointed at the demolished watchtower. "C'mon, we've got a 'mystery' to solve."

Karnwyr was the first to follow me, but the ranger was right behind. As I approached the watchtower itself, a terrified guard ran from the open doorway and slammed into me. He was covered in burns and blood, and I helped the wounded guard to his feet. In clear hysterics, the guard spoke with just as much trepidation. "No!" he cried to us all, everyone gathering around the stone ramp. "Get back! It's still here somewhere!" He scanned the darkening sky, shivering as he crouched. "Hroki and Tor just got grabbed when they tried to make a run for it!"

"It's all right." I invoked my Voice of the Emperor. "Calm down. It'll be okay." The Nord stilled, but must've been too frightened to allow the magic to take hold.

"It's not, it's not all right!" he wailed, covering the back of his neck and taking to his knees. "Look!" He pointed to his right, where two other guards laid in horrific positions. One had his legs entirely removed from his body whereas the other had her burnt chest caved in and eaten away. If I hadn't seen far worse in the Deadlands, I'd have gotten sick.

"Guardsman!" Irileth snapped, revealing the hints of fear even she felt. "Tell us what happened here! Where's this dragon?" When the guard refused to reply, she spoke with anger. "Quickly now!"

The guardsman looked up at Irileth. "I don't know," he stammered. When a roar shook the sky, everyone tensed up, and the guard pointed at the mountains to the south. "Kynareth save us; here he comes again!" His eyes rolled into the back of his head as he lost consciousness, the fear bringing him down before the dragon could.

My heart pounding in my chest, I jumped from the ramp and watched the area the fainted guard had pointed at, and an unfamiliar pressure within my torso sent a shiver through my own body. Bishop's comforting hand on my shoulder alleviated the feeling slightly, but as the dragon flew with impossible speed, even the ranger couldn't keep it away. I heard his arrow nock the bow along with a low curse under his breath. "Holy fuck..." He then addressed Karnwyr. "Avoid it if you can, you old mutt. If he lands, go for the wing membrane." The red wolf barked in understanding.

"Here he comes!" Irileth shouted as the rings of steel rang out around the broken tower. "Find cover and make every arrow count!"

"Talos save us!" one of the guards cried. "It's a dragon! It's really a dragon!" Now only a few yards away, the dragon's ensuing roar nearly deafened me, sending my brain into a jumble. The sword nearly dropped from my hands, but I managed to squeeze its leather-covered hilt.

The dragon let out a stream of fire, the blaze nearly as hot as the lava I'd been drowned in more times than I could count. With it, visions of the Deadlands flashed through my mind, freezing me to the ground. Not now, I can't-!

"Ladyship! Snap out of it!" Before my traumatic past could truly take hold, Bishop's shout managed to shake me out of it. He shoved me out of the way just before another blast of flame could incinerate me, and I made a mental reminder to endlessly thank him once we killed it.

Or if we killed it.

"Slay it!" the second guard screamed. "Slay the dragon."

"You dare to cross me?" A male voice came from the dragon followed by what was undeniably a degrading chortle, the sound sending lightning through my bones. "You petty, pathetic mortals truly believe you can slay me and save yourselves?" The dragon- apparently a he- hovered in the air. To our dismay, the majority of the arrows shot bounced harmlessly off its tough scales. "Mey, fools, to believe that I, Mir-mul-nir, could be slain by mortals!" Mirmulnir continued to fly, snapping at the panicking guards harmlessly.

"I can't get a bead on him!"

The ranger, refusing to leave my side, took a sharp breath in. "He's playing with us," Bishop said in shock, his black leather boots digging into the scorched earth. "This thing is playing with us!"

Staring up at Mirmulnir, I felt courage roil in my chest and a striking urge to kill this dragon before it could kill anyone here. Turning my head toward the ranger, I spoke with complete conviction. "Then it picked the wrong fucking game to play!" I screamed, rushing the dragon's way and waving my steel sword about. "Hey! Down here!" The giant beast twisted his neck to look my way and tipped his head, visibly curious. "Yeah, down here, you overgrown lizard!" An echoing snarl burst from Mirmulnir's scaly mouth, and it dove down toward me. I ducked just in time, and the dragon passed just over my head.

"Your insults will not go unpunished, mortal!" the dragon screeched, lifting its head. I recognized its stance and the glow from its mouth as preparation to release another jet of flame and again rolled out of the way, though the avoidance this time was too close for comfort.

"Come down here and fight, you coward!" I shrieked up at the dragon, clutching my sword as tightly as my fingers would allow. "Or will you fly around like a scared little sheep?" Mirmulnir roared furiously in response and hovered in the air once more.

"You believe me scared, you call me 'coward' and 'sheep,'" he snarled. "Worthless words!" He slammed his tail down onto the unconscious guard, splattering scarlet body matter all over me, and I tasted the iron of the guard's blood on my lips. Pushing the nausea down, I continued dodging the dragon's attacks. "You beg for me to take to the ground? As you wish, mortal fool!" Raising his wings, the unharmed dragon shot to the ground, leaving a massive crater where he landed.

Bishop threw his empty sheath of arrows to the ground. "I'm all out," he shouted to me, barely audible over the dragon. "I'm on the verge of grabbing your stubborn ass and getting the fuck out of here, so you'd better have a plan!" My mind raced as I watched Mirmulnir snap at the guards, tearing the hand from the nearest one and drinking in the agonized screams.

"Fine." I stormed at the dragon with my sword at the ready, relying on the distraction to shove the blade into the scaly neck.

"Ladyship!" Bishop shrieked. "Not that one!" A roar of enraged pain burst from Mirmulnir's mouth, and I was forced to grip his sharp scales to keep from being thrown off. Blood streamed from my palms, but I still refused to let myself be tossed away.

The second I got a chance, I ripped my sword from Mirmulnir's neck and climbed the back of his neck up to his head. Somehow managing to keep my balance, I lifted the sharp steel into the air and prayed to any god that was listening that this would work. Licking my chapped lips, I drove the sword into the base of the dragon's skull. A horrendously agonized shriek from the gargantuan beast immediately followed, along with a shake so rough that I was thrown from my place atop its head. A tiny cry burst from my mouth as I hit the ground, feeling a crack in my ribs.

Instantly at my back, Bishop lifted me to my feet, and Karnwyr's growls at the flailing dragon were inaudible over Mirmulnir's ensuing choking speech. "D-Dovahkiin!" he shrieked, continuing to scream and roar. "N-no! NO!" Collapsing, the dragon crashed to the ground and sent up a shower of dirt and blackened flesh.

Unable to control my labored breathing, I whirled around and slung my arms around Bishop as tightly as possible. He returned the embrace without a moment's hesitation, hand cradling my neck. I felt the tension in his body as acutely as my own and tried to calm myself. "Ladyship," he murmured, voice hardening as he grabbed my shoulders and held me at arm's length. "What the fuck was that?! When I said a plan, I didn't mean to jump on the fucking thing's back and play horsey rides!"

Swallowing the late fear, I tried to find a response. "You said a plan," I replied weakly. "And at least it worked."

"And what if it hadn't?" the ranger demanded, his golden eyes flashing in the firelight. "What if you'd been killed?!"

"But I wasn't. I-"

"What's happening?!" Bishop's and my row was interrupted by a cry of alarm from one of the guards, and we separated in surprise. The dragon's skin had begun to glow with a light that became just as bright as its fire, then even brighter.

"Everybody get back!" Irileth hollered, speaking for the first time since the dragon had attacked.

Although everyone else instantly obeyed, I found myself motionless with the same pressure from earlier forming in my chest. All at once, the dragon's scales burst into flame, burning away the body with speed. The light hit the sky, sucking away what remained of Mirmulnir. Without warning, the blazing light shot my way. I vaguely heard a masculine shout of dismay at my back, but most of my focus was on the pressure filling my body. It was both pleasant and unbearable, and a scream burst from my lips.

Then, suddenly, it was over. Left on the ground panting with the pressure fading, I felt something wet on my cheek followed by a sad whine. It took me a moment to place it, but I eventually managed to realize that Karnwyr was licking me while pawing at my arm. Coughing, I propped myself up. "Hey, buddy," I croaked, putting my elbow in front of my mouth as I hacked away. "Where's-" The guards all surrounded me, speaking over one another in their excitement.

"I can't believe it!"

"You're Dragonborn!"

"By Talos, he's right!"

"You took its very soul!"

"Hey! Everyshit! Back the fuck away!" The familiar voice of Bishop was relieving, as well as the space that was given me immediately afterward. Relying on Karnwyr's back to steady me, I stood back up and stared wide-eyed at the dragon. Nothing was left of it but bones, most of which were already crumbling to ash. I watched Bishop saunter over and start picking through what was left, scooping jewels and coins from the wreckage. Why is there treasure in a dragon's corpse? I wondered.

"Miss?" I blinked rapidly and faced the guard who had spoken. "Do you know what that was?"

I rubbed at my eyes. "Not- not really." I could liken it to the odd magical wall's feeling, but he wouldn't understand it.

"You- you're Dragonborn," he said in awe, this time keeping his distance out of reverence.

"Dragonborn?" I scrunched up my nose, seeing Bishop approach again out of the corner of my eye. "What do you mean?"

"In the very oldest tales, back from when there were still dragons in Skyrim, the Dragonborn would slay dragons and steal their power." He paused. "That's what you did, isn't it? Absorbed that dragon's power?"

I looked down at myself, unsure. "I don't know what happened to me," I admitted. "I just feel... strange."

"There's only one way to find out!" exclaimed a different guard, rubbing his hands together. "Try to Shout; that would prove it!"

"Uh... shout?"

"Not 'shout,' 'Shout!'" the third guard corrected, as though that would clear things up. "According to the old legends, only the Dragonborn can Shout without training, the way the dragons do."

"That's right!" One of the other guards spoke up. "My grandfather used to tell stories about the Dragonborn, those born with the Dragon Blood in 'em. Like old Tiber Septim himself."

The first guard gestured to the dead dragon. "I've never heard of Tiber Septim killing any dragons."

The other guard's response was venomous. "There weren't any dragons then, idiot. They're just coming back for the first time in... forever."

"But the old tales tell of the Dragonborn who could kill dragons and steal their power." Another snapped his fingers. "She must be one!" He faced his commander. "Come on, Irileth. Tell us. Do you believe in this Dragonborn business?"

Irileth eyed me with a mixture of reproach and awe. "Hmmph." She turned up her nose. "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 mythical Dragonborn." That was undoubtedly directed at me. Bitch. "Someone who can put down a dragon is more than enough for me."

Bishop finally spoke up with irritation clear in his voice. "You saw a floating light make the body of a dragon crumble into dust and rush Alessia here; why the fuck does-" He held up his hands in surrender. "You know what? Never mind. Fuck it." He again wandered off.

"Yeah!" The guard shook a finger at Irileth. "You wouldn't understand, Housecarl! You ain't a Nord."

Equally frustrated, Irileth crossed her arms. "I've been all across Tamriel!" she snapped. "I've seen plenty of things just as outlandish as this." The Dunmer woman tapped her sword pointedly. "I'd advise you all to trust in the strength of your sword over tales and legends."

Ignoring his commander, the guard turned back to me. "If you really are Dragonborn, like out of the old tales, you ought to be able to Shout. Go on, try!" he insisted.

"Shout? I..."

Fus...

The same sound from my expedition into Bleak Falls Barrow echoed in my head.

Fus...

Almost painful.

Fus!

This time, the pressure in my chest was unbearable. As soon as I parted my lips, the Word burst free, releasing the tension and sending electricity through my flesh. "Fus!" All three guards stumbled back with Irileth being thrown to the ground. Despite the unintentional assault, they came back with astonishment in their eyes as opposed to hostility.

"That's it," the first one breathed. "That manner of power! That was Shouting, what you just did! It must be! ...You really are Dragonborn, then."

Apparently sick of not being the center of attention for more than thirty seconds, Irileth once again spoke up and made the conversation about her. "That was the hairiest fight I've ever been in," she announced, "and I've been in more than a few. If I hadn't-"

"Shut up, bitch." I had to slam my hand over my mouth to avoid laughing at Bishop's harsh jab. "I was watching you and your men fight the whole time. No one's arrows worked, and all you did was wave a sword around." He then gestured to me. "Alessia's the one who killed the fucking thing."

Irileth sniffed in annoyance. "Fetcher," she growled. "What matters is that the dragon is dead."

"And it wasn't just your fight," the ranger pointed out, crossing his arms in the same manner as her in mockery. "So don't act like you're the hero of Skyrim, because you're not."

"Well, neither is she!" the Dark Elf said hotly, growing more and more frustrated by the second. "We all deserve the glory."

"Yeah, whatever you say." Bishop rolled his eyes.

Refusing to give Bishop another second, Irileth turned back to me. "I don't know about this Dragonborn business, but believe me, I'm sure glad you're with us." At least she was telling the truth in that regard. "You'd better get back to Whiterun right away. Jarl Balgruuf will want to know what happened here."

I shrugged uncertainly. "I suppose he will."

"Men! Begin gathering up what's left of the beast!" Irileth ordered, pointing to the corpse. "I'm sure we can find a use for dragon bones."

Biting my lip, I faced Whiterun. The moon was rising in the sky while my limbs screamed for rest. Now that the adrenaline had faded away, my body was telling me just how truly exhausted it was. I'd been through too much. I needed sleep more than food or drink.

Trudging along the path, I became aware of Bishop's presence beside me. "Don't go there," I warned, holding up a hand. "I don't want to hear anything else about this magic Dragonborn thing."

"I wasn't going to talk about that," Bishop promised. "I was going to ask... are you okay?" His query was awkwardly said but still rang with truthful concern. "That was quite the show of acrobatics, and that light-thing couldn't have been comfortable."

"It wasn't," I confirmed. "I'm just tired. I can't believe-"

The sky crackled with a sudden energy that seemed almost impossible, a storm without clouds, a dragon's roar without the beast. A single word shattered the night and shook the ground, sending Bishop, Karnwyr, and me sprawling out onto the dirt and stone. The sound undoubtedly traveled the length of Tamriel and sent Skyrim into hysterics.

The sound was three Words that echoed in my mind, addressed to me and me alone.

"DO-VAH-KIIN!"