Chapter 24: Dovahkiin
The beast glared with its only functioning eye, recognizing what I was, my hands raised high, gripping a steel warhammer.
Do-vah-kiin!!!
Its scream became an echo and faded into the wind. I stood over the fallen Dovah, chest heaving, sweat and ash coating my skin. The soldiers stood still behind me.
Irelith stepped next to me, her face full of confusion and concern, "H-How? How are you alive?" she asked.
I didn't look away from the corpse.
And as if on cue, the dragon's body began to glow. The blood stopped pooling, and it started, wisps of light, orange and blue, like liquid fire and sky, rose from the dragon and twisted in the air. It's flesh disintegrating, revealing its bones, leaving its scale falling like rain.
The glowing tendrils floated toward me.
Ireltih took a step back. "What is—"
The energy slammed into my chest, and I staggered back, eyes wide.
An instinct I was very familiar with became sharper, stronger. A minute fraction of the dragon tongue's understanding filled my head, and then, I felt my arms, legs, and my whole body grow stronger, a strength that could rival any mortal became mine.
I closed my eyes, hearing and feeling everything around me: Irileth's uneven breath, crackling fire, clattering of armor in the distance, the corpses, and barely alive soldiers being dragged out of the rubble.
I exhaled as I finally opened my eyes.
Irileth's attention had turned to the fallen soldiers, the hardened face of a warrior still on her face, even after this dangerous battle.
I stepped closer to the skeleton and scales that remained, placing my hands on it, and I stored everything inside my inventory.
A few minutes passed, the field was still, the wind had returned, the black smoke floating above had dissipated, as though it had never been there.
The soldiers stood back, uncertain, glancing at me like I might burst into flame or sprout wings.
One of them finally stepped forward.
He had a thick horseshoe mustache and nervous eyes. His armor clanked slightly as he approached.
"I can't believe it… You're a… Dragonborn…" he blurted.
I said nothing. I just looked at him. A moment passed, then another. Soon Irileth came back, standing between us, "What are you talking about?" she asked the horseshoe guard.
The guard swallowed. "You wouldn't understand, Housecarl, you ain't a Nord." Another guard said, Irileth frowned. "I'd advise you all to trust in the strength of your sword arm over tales and legend," she said, doubting her own words, remembering what happened earlier.
"There's one way to find out… Try to shout… that would prove it," Mustache proposed.
With no warning, I moved forward.
I stood facing the plains, away from everyone, the soldiers and mages stood behind me, watching me in anticipation.
I drew in a breath.
And spoke.
"FUS!"
The ground shook.
A tremor ripped through the earth, tearing the soil. The air cracked like thunder. A violent wind howled from my throat, barreling across the field in a straight line.
Some soldiers stumbled backward, gasping, eyes wide in disbelief.
And then silence followed.
Replaced by awe.
The mustached guard stared at me, his mouth open like a man who'd just seen the gods and wasn't sure whether to pray or run.
"That was shouting, what you just did! You really are Dragonborn. Then—"
"I don't know about this Dragonborn business, but I'm sure glad you're with us." Irileth interjected, "But, we must hurry to the Jarl, he would want to know what happened here." I nodded in agreement.
The others stayed behind, tending to the wounded, gathering the dead, whispering what they had witnessed. While we began our journey.
Just the two of us.
The wind bit cold across the plains, but I hardly noticed it. I wasn't walking so much as gliding, a strange, coiled power still humming inside me. The Thu'um. It was finally mine.
I barely heard the thuds of our boots or the clinks of Irileth's armor beside me, until...
Irielth broke the silence.
"How are you alive?" Irileth questioned, "I watched you die." Her voice was low, cautious. It wasn't suspicion or fear, just curiosity.
"Would you believe me if I told you the truth?" I asked without turning to her.
That caught her attention, she was now even more curious to know. "Nothing else can surprise me, so shoot."
"I…" I stretched the silence, our steps became slower and slower, "...Am a Deadric Lord." I said with no hesitation.
Irileth paused in her steps, I turned back to look at her, only to find her glaring at me, noticing the edge of my mouth twitch, trying to hold in the laughter.
Her fingers curled into a tight fist. I watched it fly toward me. I could've moved out of the way, but I didn't. Letting it hit me.
Pfft!
A chuckle finally escaped me as Irileth folded her arms in front of her chest.
"Keep your secrets then," she muttered.
We resumed our pace, Whiterun looming closer, its great stone walls came into view as we approached, the guards on the ramparts called out. Their silhouettes peered over the edge like ravens watching prey.
The gate opened before we even reached it.
And what we walked into was no longer the Whiterun I had left; the streets were lined with soldiers, each one standing at attention, eyes locked on me.
There were no civilians, no merchants, no children darting between carts, no beggars, only silence.
The soldiers eased seeing us, as if a mountain had been removed from their shoulders.
Irileth stopped in front of the soldiers, "Head to the Western watchtower, there are at least 20 injured, bring them back."
The soldiers nodded, heading out with rhythmic steps, pounding on the stone path.
Dragonsreach loomed ahead, the Jarl's palace standing like a ship upon a mountain of stone.
We climbed up and entered the court, only to be greeted by Proventus Avenicci, anxiety leaking through every wrinkle in his face.
"It's dead," Irileth said from the side.
Proventus exhaled, "Wait here, the jarl will be here shortly," he said, and turned to one of the guards, who was already moving toward the stairs leading up to the war room.
Balgruuf came down from upstairs, with a pleasant look on his face, flanked by two guards.
Making his way to the throne, he sat down as Irileth and I stepped forward. He was a bit surprised to see me.
Irileth opened her mouth to speak, but it was interrupted as a tremendous shout echoed throughout Skyrim, like a thunderclap.
The ground shook; the lanterns and sconces clattered against the wall. The soldiers, who had been still for too long, lost their balance for a moment.
DO-VAH-KIIN
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