-Ch. 4-

Oz was knocked back on his rear. The ends of his robes and beard were singed. But he was alive and breathing, albeit barely. It was still more than could be said for the dragon.

"DOVAHKIIN NO!" The booming, ancient voice called out, seemingly from all around, as the dragon's skin began to burn and evaporate away.

Oz watched wide-eyed, immobile, as strands of light began to flow from the dragon skeleton. He gasped as the light bent towards him, flowing through him and dancing around him.

He stood slowly as the lights stopped, and the surviving guards surrounded him and the skeleton. He expected to be shaky getting up, but he felt revitalized.

"You... must be Dragonborn!" One of the Whiterun guards said, astonished.

"That's right!" Another one called out. "My grandfather used to tell stories about the Dragonborn. Those born with the Dragon Blood in 'em. Like old Tiber Septim himself."

"I never heard of Tiber Septim killing any dragons." One skeptical soldier commented, crossing his arms.

"There weren't any dragons then, idiot. They're just coming back now for the first time in... forever."

"But the old tales tell of the Dragonborn who could kill dragons and steal their power. You must be one!" The first guard said, stepping a bit closer to Oz.

"What do you say, Irileth? You're being awfully quiet."

The soldier's question made Ozgar's eyes dart to Irileth, who had been staring at him intently this entire time. Oz hadn't even noticed. She continued to stare, and assess.

"Come on, Irileth, tell us, do you believe in this Dragonborn business?"

"Hmph," She scoffed, stepping towards the skeleton. "Some of you would be better off keeping quiet than flapping your gums on matters you don't know anything about." She walked back and forth in front of the felled dragon, addressing her guards. "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." She stopped moving, and turned to look at Oz. "Someone who can put down a dragon is more than enough for me."

Oz took a deep breath and swelled his chest with pride. He gave Irileth a determined nod.

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

Irileth rolled her eyes. "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."

Oz nodded along with Irileth's words. All across Tamriel? Oz was currently the furthest East in Skyrim he'd even been and his head was spinning. He tried to maintain his composure as she turned to address Oz directly.

"That was the hairiest fight I've ever been in, and I've been in more than a few." She said, clasping Oz on the shoulder. "I don't know about this Dragonborn business, but I'm sure glad you're with us." He was glad to have impressed her so much. "You better get back to Whiterun right away. Jarl Balgruuf will want to know what happened here."

"Aye, aye." He said saluting, immediately feeling silly for it. Especially when he saw Irileth's confused reaction. "I'll report to the Jarl."

"Very good. I'm taking command here for the moment. I'll see you at Dragonsreach, I'm sure."

Oz nodded, and began jogging back towards the city. He could hardly believe the last few days, much less the last few minutes.

As he approached the city gates, he heard it again. The same word the Dragon said as it died; It still sounded like it was coming from all around. Only now it was louder.

"DOVAHKIIN"

Oz looked around to see if it was only him unsteady on his feet, but saw that the ground was indeed shaking.