Chapter 6 – Loyal Mighty Hunter
The Western Watchtower stood a little over one mile from Whiterun's entrance. The path leading to it stretched across the plain, offering only sparse rocks and bushes as cover. These meager hideouts made it challenging for Hunfen to follow the group without being seen. He moved as quietly as possible, keeping a safe distance from the guards while ensuring he didn't lose sight of them. His heart raced from the frantic sprints between hiding spots and the anticipation of what awaited them.
Once he arrived, Hunfen hid behind a rock, getting as close to the tower as possible without risking detection. The structure already bore signs of damage, indicating that the dragon hadn't just been circling overhead. Shortly after, the young Nord saw a guard emerge from the tower to greet the reinforcements. The child was too far to hear the man's words, but his gestures betrayed obvious panic. Suddenly, a gust of wind lifted sand and dust, and a shadow passed over him. Looking up, Hunfen saw the dragon flying over his hiding spot, heading straight for the watchtower.
This creature seemed slightly smaller than the one that had ravaged Helgen. Its horns appeared shorter, and unlike its counterpart, the scales covering its body were a pale, almost white, color. The child wasn't sure, but it also seemed that its eyes weren't red. This was definitely a different dragon.
Terrified yet fascinated, Hunfen watched the battle begin between the dragon and the guards. Arrows whistled through the air as the warriors brandished their weapons, ready to strike the creature as soon as it was within reach. The dragon, undeterred, seemed to enjoy fighting them. It appeared to take a deep breath, and the young Nord rose slightly, expecting another of those formidable attacks triggered by a shout.
"Thuri du hin sil ko Sovngarde!" roared the dragon, its voice echoing through the skies. Hunfen only caught the word Sovngarde, the place where the souls of honorable Nords were welcomed. For a moment, he imagined the great black dragon sowing terror in that mythical place. Nevertheless, the creature's words had no immediate effect. Evidently, these beings could also speak without attacking.
The guards redoubled their efforts, delivering increasingly powerful blows. The dragon, in response, beat its wings, gaining ten meters of altitude. "Krif krin. Pruzah!" it growled amusingly, again without producing any visible effect. Hunfen focused on the armed men, admiring the courage they displayed in battle. The next moment, the dragon took another deep breath and exclaimed, "Yol Toor Shul!" This time, a jet of flames poured down on the Whiterun guards.
As if to taunt them, the beast landed in front of the men again. The fighters struggled to hold their ground, striking with violent sword blows accompanied by some fire and lightning spells that Irileth also seemed to master. Armor and shields provided little defense against the dragon's sharp claws and teeth and its fiery breath. In this chaotic melee, some guards fell under the dragon's onslaught while others got up to continue the fight.
"Brit grah!" exclaimed the dragon, evidently appreciating the spectacle.
The guards, despite their fear and exhaustion, persisted in their struggle against the winged monster. The dragon suddenly rose into the air again, observing the scene with satisfaction.
"I had forgotten how much you mortals can provide such delightful entertainment!" the creature proclaimed. Hunfen straightened up, amazed. So, these dragons spoke the common tongue?! "You are brave. Bahlaan hokoron!" continued the dragon, circling around the warriors. "Your defeat will bring me honor!"
The battle reached its peak, the guards and the dragon locked in a relentless fight. Arrows flew, swords clashed, and spells illuminated the battlefield. The dragon, determined to eliminate its foes, grew fiercer. Suddenly, the dragon grabbed a guard and, with a quick flick of its head, hurled him into the air. The lifeless, disjointed body flew over Hunfen, who couldn't suppress a cry of fear. The child crouched back behind the rock. Would this dragon take them all, to the last man?
But the guards did not give up, and their combined attacks seemed finally to injure the legendary creature. The dragon, worn out by its enemies' relentless assault, wavered, its movements growing slower and less precise. It landed clumsily one last time, its weight making the ground tremble, and began attacking its enemies in close combat. Finally, a final sword blow delivered by Irileth managed to bring the creature down. With a heart-wrenching scream, the beast collapsed, making the earth tremble again under its colossal weight. The dragon fell on the rock behind which Hunfen had been hiding, shattering his cover. The shock instantly knocked the child out, and he collapsed unconscious.
oOo
Hunfen was floating, drifting in a strange dark undefined space. He had no idea where he was, but oddly, he felt no anxiety. Before him, a soft light appeared, first flickering, then growing stronger. A mysterious entity, without a defined form, emerged, shining like the sun. This presence felt incredibly ancient, almost eternal. It radiated wisdom and power, dazzling Hunfen, who couldn't help but stare, captivated by this entity that seemed to harbor an immense source of knowledge, so vast and deep it was almost terrifying. He couldn't tear his gaze away from this mysterious figure, driven by an irresistible desire for the knowledge it held.
Hunfen recalled how he had been knocked out by the dragon's mere fall, which filled him with shame. He felt weak and insignificant compared to this entity's power. He then felt a burning desire to become stronger, to no longer be a victim of uncontrollable circumstances. Suddenly, like a beam of light, the entity poured all its knowledge into him, memories of other times, extraordinary images, elusive concepts.
Totally unable to grasp any information from the torrent that passed through him, Hunfen could only endure the succession of sensations imposed on him. But in this uninterrupted flow, he began to distinguish a particular notion, a word first distant and practically indiscernible, like a call through a crowd. The child focused on this faint perception, trying to separate it from the rest to grasp its meaning. He first heard the sound: "Fus." A strange mark appeared to him, like an unknown writing, but he instinctively understood it meant the same thing.
The more Hunfen focused on "Fus," the clearer its meaning became. This term represented force. Although the mortal word "force" was too weak to describe this notion, whose profound meaning and subtle nuances now became increasingly clear to him. As he tried to deepen his understanding of "Fus," to connect it to other terms, the flow of knowledge ceased, and the mysterious entity began to fade, slowly disappearing into the darkness of the dream. Hunfen tried to hold it back, eager to learn more, but he had no way to move.
When the entity had completely disappeared, Hunfen woke up with a start, shaken by an impatient hand.
oOo
Hunfen opened his eyes to find Irileth standing over him, a stern expression on her face. He quickly realized he was lying on a cot in the Temple of Kynareth. Lucia was beside him, smiling shyly.
"Finally awake, you reckless kid?" the warrior scolded. "You should never have followed us to the watchtower. It was extremely dangerous!"
Hunfen stammered, searching for his words. "I… I just wanted to see the dragon up close, I'm sorry."
"Don't worry, Hunfen, you had only minor injuries," Lucia intervened, smiling. "It's the second time I heal you today. You're giving me good practice!"
The young Nord smiled back, grateful. Around him, he noticed the presence of guards wounded during the operation. At their bedsides, the priestesses busied themselves, their faces marked by concentration. The magic they wielded seemed infinitely more complex than Lucia's spell, demonstrating the practitioners' great expertise. A large number of potions in various shapes had also been brought. Irileth sighed and announced to Hunfen, "I need to report to Jarl Balgruuf. You're coming with me, young man. He will be informed of your escapade."
Hunfen swallowed hard at this announcement. He got up painfully from the cot and thanked Lucia before following Irileth out of the temple, across Vermidor Square, and finally up the steps to Dragonsreach. Throughout the journey, he could feel the huscarl's stern gaze weighing on him.
Ashamed and anxious, Hunfen followed Irileth through the hall of Dragonsreach. He felt a weight on his chest seeing the stern and concerned expression of the Jarl, sitting on his throne. The child's hands trembled slightly, and he tried not to let his nervousness show.
Irileth approached Balgruuf and began her report. "My Jarl, the Western Watchtower has been destroyed, but we managed to slay the dragon. Unfortunately, five guards fell in battle, and we also have several injured. However, we now know that these dragons can be fought and killed!"
Balgruuf nodded. Hunfen noticed a slight relaxation in his features, but his gaze remained stern when he turned to him. The young boy felt trapped, unable to escape the Jarl's judgment.
"Well done, Irileth! Is there anything else to report?"
"Yes, my Jarl. When the dragon died, its flesh immediately burned away entirely. Only its skeleton remains now. I've never seen anything like it before."
Farengar, intrigued, intervened: "That is indeed very curious! I have not read any reference to this phenomenon in ancient records. It's fascinating! This might be a clue to the very nature of these dragons!"
Hunfen shared the mage's astonishment and regretted not being able to see this with his own eyes, even though he had been so close to the beast. He was, however, interrupted in his train of thought when Irileth continued: "Additionally, we found Hunfen unconscious next to the dragon's corpse. I still don't understand how he didn't burn with the body!"
Balgruuf turned to the child, visibly irritated by the young boy's escapade. "I told you to stay inside the walls. Don't imagine that the watchmen didn't see you, but they weren't going to leave their posts to chase after you!"
The obvious truth hit Hunfen like a brick, adding to the shame already weighing on him. Too focused on the squad heading to the watchtower, he had completely forgotten the presence of the guards on the walls. He lowered his head while Balgruuf continued his scolding:
"You showed great recklessness in going alone to the battlefield. Do you think we would be pleased to count you among the wounded or dead? You were incredibly lucky this time, but I have no desire to present your father with a corpse when he comes for you!"
The Jarl's words struck Hunfen's mind. His cheeks burned, and he suddenly found an unusual interest in the tips of his shoes. Farengar, still excited, asked: "Can you provide any additional details about the dragon? Did you notice anything else?" Balgruuf raised his hand to temper the mage's enthusiasm. "Farengar, now is not the time!"
Despite the reprimand, Hunfen raised his head and looked at the mage, carefully avoiding the Jarl's gaze. He took a moment to gather his thoughts and ensure his voice.
"The dragon that attacked the tower," he began, the words coming painfully from his mouth, "its scales were lighter, almost white, and it was a bit smaller than the one at Helgen. It was a different dragon, I'm sure!" His heart pounded, but he was determined to make his disobedience useful. Trying to sift through the information he thought was relevant, he continued: "It said several phrases in its language, but I thought I heard 'Sovngarde' in one of them," he said hesitantly. "And then it spoke in our language! It said that mortals were entertaining! And then, 'You are brave, your defeat will bring me honor'!"
Farengar, captivated, took frantic notes. Balgruuf sighed. His face softened, and he finally spoke again, in a calmer tone: "Listen, Hunfen, Jorrvaskr is probably not the best place to calm your recklessness, and I don't want to see you risk your life again."
Hunfen felt his heart tighten and his throat knot at these words, realizing the Jarl was going to remove him from the environment he had begun to appreciate. He tried to maintain a neutral expression while waiting to hear the Jarl's decision. After a pause, the Jarl continued: "There is a place in Riften that takes in orphans. I will send you there until we find your father. They will know how to take better care of you without putting you in danger."
The news hit Hunfen like a punch. He was being sent away from Whiterun. His stomach twisted, and he felt a bitter taste fill his mouth. However, he stood straight and humbly accepted the Jarl's decision, struggling to keep his distress hidden.
"Lydia will escort you to Riften," Balgruuf added. "She is a talented young warrior, skilled in the art of protection and vigilance. She will ensure your safety during the journey." Hunfen nodded, unable to speak.
oOo
Lydia waited patiently for Hunfen outside Dragonsreach. She was a young Nord with fine features, which contrasted with her dark eyes that, behind a stoic expression, seemed to capture the slightest movement. She wore armor made of leather reinforced with steel plates, complemented by gauntlets and boots of similar craftsmanship. A sword was strapped to her waist, while her left arm bore a shield of wood and metal. She approached the child, displaying a serious demeanor that left little room for sentiment.
"Hello, Hunfen, my name is Lydia," she introduced herself in a firm voice. "Jarl Balgruuf has tasked me with accompanying you to Honorhall Orphanage in Riften."
Hunfen nodded, trying to hide his sadness. "Thank you, Lydia," he managed to murmur.
The two companions hurried toward the city gates. Only two carriages traveled daily to Riften, and Lydia was keen to catch the evening one, which was about to depart. Hunfen, who carried his dagger at his belt, had left nothing behind at Jorrvaskr. The child wished to say a final goodbye to the Companions who had warmly welcomed him but lacked the courage to express this request to the warrior. The sun had already disappeared behind the horizon, and the other children had long since returned home. Thus, Hunfen could not bid them farewell either.
Passing under the archway of Whiterun's gates, Hunfen could no longer contain his emotions. Tears began to stream down his cheeks as sobs shook his body. Lydia, walking beside him, glanced at him, her usually stoic expression betraying a hint of uncertainty. She had never been good at handling others' emotions, let alone a distressed child's. Despite this, she tried her best to comfort the young boy. Awkwardly, she extended her hand and placed it on Hunfen's shoulder, offering a sort of silent comfort. Hunfen, touched by this gesture, tried to control his tears and catch his breath.
They finally arrived at the waiting carriage. The driver, a middle-aged man, watched them board with curiosity but asked no questions. Hunfen and Lydia settled on the wooden benches, and the carriage creaked into motion, slowly leaving the city.