InsaneJournal

"Farengar!" Irileth shouted as she burst suddenly into the room. Andrel's head whipped around to see the Dunmer woman, and she looked between the pair. "Farengar, you need to come at once. A dragon's been sighted, nearby. You should come, too."

His heart sank in his chest. Farengar didn't seem to be perturbed - he was actually excited.

"A dragon? Where was it seen? What was it doing?"

"I'd take this a little more seriously if I were you. If it attacks Whiterun, I don't know if we can stop it."

There wasn't any time to waste. He and Farengar went upstairs to the second level where a breathless guard was describing the events to Jarl Balgruuf.

"Good work, son. We'll take it from here. Head down to the barracks for some food and rest. You've earned it. Irileth, you'd better gather some guardsmen and get down there."

"I've already ordered my men to muster near the main gate."

"Good. Don't fail me," the Jarl replied before turning to him. "There's no time to stand on ceremony, my friend. I need your help again. Go with Irileth and help her fight this dragon. You survived Helgen, so you have more experience with dragons than anyone else here."

He nodded in agreement. Part of him feared it'd be the same dragon he saw in Helgen. How in Oblivion were they supposed to fight against that and defeat him? "I will try my best, Jarl Balgruuf."

"I haven't forgotten the service you did for me in retrieving the Dragonstone for Farengar. As a token of my esteem, I have instructed Avenicci that you are now permitted to purchase property in the city. And please accept this gift from my personal armory."

"If we make it through this, I'll keep that in mind. Thank you, my Jarl. I'm going with Irileth now."

"Talos guide you all."

"And Arkay rest our souls."

"Don't be so glum, boy."

He smirked and turned to go downstairs with Irileth, following her closely out of the city. They met with her men just before the city gate where she rounded them up.

"Here's the situation," she called out loudly, pacing before them. "A dragon is attacking the western watchtower. 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!"

"But Housecarl...how can we attack a dragon?" one of the guards asked.

"Fair question. None of us ever expected to face one in battle. But we are honor-bound 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?

"We're so dead..." he heard one guard mutter. Biting back a laugh in spite of himself, he remained quiet and let Irileth speak her last piece.

"But it's more than our honor at stake here. 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?"

Speaking up, he looked to Irileth and the guards. "I'd like to say something."

"What is it?" Irileth asked.

"When you're fighting a dragon, I feel this is a bit obvious, and it is, but try to stay away from its mouth. If you're caught there, run. It doesn't just breathe fire. They have multiple attacks they can use, and I don't just mean the ability to bite and throw you," he spoke again, looking them all over. "When that black dragon attacked Helgen, one of the first things he did was release this wave of energy. It's enough to send several men flying. Our goal is going to be getting this beast to land for us. We need to hit him with everything we've got. Arrows, magic, whatever you can do at range. If we can get him to land, I reckon we stand a chance against him. Dragons can be killed, we know this much, or we'd all still be enslaved by them. Let's go. If we cut across the field to the tower, we'll get there faster."

They all filed out of the city gates and down the path that led to the exterior of Whiterun's outer fortress walls. Across the field they went, and when they reached the watchtower, it was all but destroyed. It'd always been ruinous from age, but now the ground was singed with burning embers and smoke was swirling around in the air.

"No signs of any dragon right now," Irileth said. "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 skulking around somewhere. Spread out and look for survivors. We need to know what we're dealing with."

As he approached the tower, a soldier emerged. His voice was shaking.

"No! Get back! It's still here somewhere! Hroki and Tor just got grabbed when they tried to make a run for it!"

He could hear that distinctive roar in the distance and grabbed his bow.

"By Kynareth... here he comes again!"

Over the mountains, he saw the dragon approaching, and it was coming for them, fast. Part of him was relieved it wasn't the same one he'd seen in Helgen. Nothing could be worse than that. But with this new dragon also came uncertainty. He knew the worst they could face, but between that and the easiest, where was this one? The dragon swooped over them and he watched as it turned in the air and landed with a thud on the ground.

"Stay away from his mouth! Loosen every arrow you have on this bastard!" he yelled, drawing a steel arrow on his own bow. Releasing the string, it shot forward and landed in Mirmulnir's chest. It wasn't enough to do any significant damage, but he did seem to roar in pain with each strike he took from Andrel and the other soldiers. "Keep at it, boys!"

One of the guards got too close to Mirmulnir's tail and was knocked clear into a fallen stone wall, and he slumped over lifelessly.

"Stay clear of his tail!" he shouted. Loosing another one of his arrows, everybody stumbled as Mirmulnir lifted off the ground and flew around the tower in a low circle. His maw opened, and Andrel ran for cover beside the fallen soldier, using his shield to protect himself from the oncoming flames. The heat was unbearable, and as soon as Mirmulnir had flown away, he grabbed the spare arrows from the fallen soldier's quiver before putting them in his own.

Irileth was using some sort of lightning-based attack, and he could see Mirmulnir's body being cloaked in the sparks. Running up beside her, he nocked another arrow. The dragon landed again in the road, and he shot another arrow forth. "I'm going in. Look at how he's poised, and listen to how he's breathing. This is almost over."

"You're a crazy bastard. Don't get yourself killed!"

"I'm not going to. Have a little faith, Irileth," he assured her, jumping down. He landed on his feet and charged straight for Mirmulnir, releasing every arrow he had in his quiver on him.

Tossing his bow aside, he drew his sword and dared to get close enough to Mirmulnir's face to slash him across the face with his blade, twice. As the dragon tried to snap at him, he scrambled backward on his feet. As Mirmulnir's mouth opened to unleash another attack, he lunged forward and pulled himself up on the back of Mirmulnir's neck, holding tight to his horn as he hacked away at scaled hide with his sword. As he landed the killing blow, he could feel Mirmulnir's body begin to collapse and jumped down. As Mirmulnir laid dying, his eyes locked on Andrel in fear.

Giant bronze-colored eyes rolled back in their sockets and one last breath was exhaled before the beast went still. Mirmulnir was dead, his body laying lifelessly off the side of the road. A few moments later, Mirmulnir's body began to burn up.

"What's happening? Everybody get back!" Irileth commanded.

He backed up, but as Mirmulnir's body burned, something happened and the guards were somehow even more shocked than he was.

Light wisps of energy shot straight for him, and the sensation of it disoriented him. He dropped his sword and fell to his knees, arms wrapped around his torso. When it first hit, it felt like everything went numb. And then, he felt like he was burning from the inside out. It was almost impossible to breathe. His head filled with what seemed like thousands of years of knowledge, giving him a nauseating headache. To the others, it looked like his entire body was glowing.

By the time it'd stopped, he felt dazed but he could breathe again. Some of the information that he had learned had given him a better understanding of fus. He already knew what it was for, and what it would do. Now he understood how to use it, himself. And he hadn't just learned it - he had all but mastered the understanding of it, in just a few moments.

"I can't believe it! You're... Dragonborn..." he heard one of them say. He was well-read into the history of the former Cyrodiilic emperors. A fair number of the Septim rulers had been Dragonborn - legendary warriors that had once slain dragons and absorbed their power as they died. But that was several eras ago.

Slowly standing, his sword momentarily laid forgotten on the ground. The others were still staring at him.

"Come on, try to Shout!"

"At you?" he asked skeptically, his brows furrowed.

"You think I'm going to arrest you over it? Do it, now!"

Turning towards the guard that addressed him, he hunched his shoulders. "If I knock you on your back, I better not hear any complaining. You asked for this."

All it took was one word. It was loud, but not yet thunderous. The raw power of his newly-discovered Voice made him stumble backwards and the guard he was facing was knocked off his feet, just as he suspected. The guard seemed to be over the moons with excitement as he got back up and dusted himself off.

"That's it! That's the Dragon Blood! Just like ol' Tiber Septim!"

"I never heard of Tiber Septim killing any dragons..." one of the guards grumbled.

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

Andrel put his hands up. "Calm down, both of you. I need to get back to Jarl Balgruuf immediately and tell him what happened, here. Irileth, are you coming with me or staying here with them?"

"I'm going to stay here. You go on to Whiterun."

Gathering his sword and bow, he started back to the city. A few moments later, and the ground shook as a voice echoed from the Throat of the World. It was so loud, he was sure everybody in both Skyrim and Cyrodiil could hear it, but it was clear the message was for him.

He ran all the way back to Whiterun's gates and entered the city. The people's whispers were buzzing with what they'd heard, but they didn't yet know that it was him they were speaking about. When he re-entered Dragonsreach, the Jarl and his brother were talking but he was quickly noticed.

"Good, you're back, and alive. The Jarl's been waiting for you."

Jarl Balgruuf turned to him. "So, what happened? Was the dragon there?"

He nodded. "The dragon was there. He called himself Mirmulnir, and we killed him. But that's not all that happened..."

"Go on. Tell us what happened."

"I'm Dragonborn. When Mirmulnir died, his body burned up and I absorbed his soul."

"So that was you the Greybeards were summoning?" the Jarl's brother Hrongar asked.

"It was, yes."

"You should really go and talk to them. You're Dragonborn, and they're masters of the Voice. They can teach you how to use your gift. This is a great honor that's been bestowed to you."

"It's a lot to process."

"I'd imagine so," the Jarl smiled.

"This hasn't happened in centuries," Hrongar commented. "The last time it happened, it was Tiber Septim, when he was still General Talos."

Jarl Balgruuf stood and stepped down from his throne. "I want you to kneel for me. Just this one time."

Kneeling down before the Jarl, he bowed his head.

"You've done a great service to me and my city, Dragonborn. By my right as Jarl, I name you Thane of Whiterun. It's the greatest honor that's within my power to grant. I assign you Lydia as a personal housecarl, and this weapon to serve as your badge of office."

The Jarl's steward disappeared into another room before resurfacing with a woman dressed in full steel armor. She looked like she could have been his sister, with her pale skin and brown hair. She stood off to the side of him to let the Jarl finish. Proventus also placed a one-handed war axe into the palm of his hand. It was old, but kept in good shape. The designs were intricate but traditional, and the city's insignia was carved carefully into a part of the leather wrapping of the handle.

"I'll also notify my guards of your new title. Wouldn't want them to think you're part of the common rabble, now would we? We are honored to have you as Thane of our city, Dragonborn. This is the first and last time I ask you to kneel for me. Rise."

Again he stood, wearing a lopsided grin. "It's an honor to be your Thane, my Jarl. Thank you."

"A piece of advice," the Jarl started again. "This gift you've been given is extraordinary, my boy. Most of us can only dream of the power you now possess. You're something of a god among us, now. Treat your power with the respect it deserves, and the Gods will reward you for it."

The Jarl wasn't ever calling him a "boy" out of condescension. If anything, it was endearing. Andrel had been an outsider and a total stranger in this city until just the day before and already he'd done so much to help the city's inhabitants, including risking his life to try and defeat a dragon he wasn't even sure he could beat. Most Nords treated their own race like their own flesh and blood. Vicious as they could be in battle, they looked after their own.

"Of course. I'm still trying to process everything that's... happened today, but with time and help from the Greybeards, I'll get used to it. I need to send word to my parents in Cyrodiil, as well. They'll want to know what kind of trouble I've stirred in my first few days here."

"Get some rest. You've earned it. And get to know your housecarl. Lydia's here to help you however she can, and be an extra sword in tough situations. She's a damn tough fighter, and I reckon she'll be a great help to you when you take the pilgrimage to High Hrothgar."

"Thank you, my Jarl." Glancing over to his new housecarl, he gestured his head in the direction of the door.

"It's an honor to meet you, my Thane," Lydia greeted with a smile, bowing her head. He started walking toward the exit, and she followed him.

"It's nice to meet you as well. I figured we could sit down at the Bannered Mare over a flagon of mead," he suggested with a light smile as they descended the staircase. "It's been a rough few days for me. I didn't even get to Skyrim a week ago and everything's changed for me in the blink of an eye."

"You can tell me all about it when we get to the inn," Lydia responded with a smile of her own.

Once they'd reached the Bannered Mare, he opened the door and let her in before he entered as well, pushing the door shut after him. Leaning on the counter, Hulda's head perked as she saw him. "Welcome back, friend. Can I get you anything?"

"Two bottles of mead, please."

"Leave the gold on the counter and I'll have those ready for you. Saadia will bring them over."

The gold needed was left on the counter. He and Lydia found a corner table to sit at and Saadia set their mead on the table with a couple glasses.

"So," Lydia started. "Jarl Balgruuf tells me you were in Helgen when it was destroyed, yesterday. How have you been faring since then?"

"It's true," he replied, rubbing his face with his palm. "I wasn't exactly supposed to be there. Got caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. Though in retrospect, I think it was supposed to happen, unfortunate as it is. Every time I close my eyes, I can see them all. You know, when I looked up and saw that dragon, I felt something. I couldn't put my finger on what it was, but things have really started to make sense to me, today."

"Like what?"

"Bleak Falls Barrow, for example. The moment I got out of that cave with my friend Hadvar, I started hearing these words in my head and they were coming from the Barrow. I didn't know what any of them meant. But then Jarl Balgruuf sent me there to get that Dragonstone. There was this wall... Last night when I was asleep, I saw these runes in my dreams. They were the same ones on that wall. The wall had been calling to me this entire time. It's quieted down, now that I've 'read' it."

"That's... fascinating. The Greybeards would be able to tell you more about that, I reckon. The runes were probably in the dragons' language, which is why you can understand them."

"I think you may be right."

"Forgive my curiosity, my Thane. But, what was it like? Absorbing a soul?"

"I don't blame you for being curious. I'm curious about it all, too. I've always known what the Dragonborn is. I grew up in Cyrodiil. Tiber Septim is still something of a household name, there. To experience it firsthand is something else. That first time was unexpected, so I was caught off guard. It was kind of painful, really. It's an immense amount of energy that's just siphoning into you, all at once. I felt drunk on it, and truthfully, I have a bit of a hangover, for lack of a better word."

She couldn't help the smirk. "Are you sure you should be drinking, then?"

"Probably not, but after the things I've seen in just the last couple days, I'd feel it's justified. I need a few days to recuperate and gather my wits, again. Perhaps travel to Darkwater Crossing and see if the things I lost are still there... The only thing I honestly care about getting back is the sword my father gave to me."

Suddenly, it dawned on him. He still had no idea what day it actually was. He'd slept on most of the ride to Helgen.

"Weird question..." he interjected. "I kind of lost track of the days. What day is it?"

"It's Morndas, and the 18th day of Last Seed."

"I'll have to mark that down. I've yet to send a courier to my parents in Cyrodiil. They're going to know what kind of trouble I've stirred up here. I expect I might be due for a trip back to Bruma to see them and explain in person."

"I am your sword and your shield, my Thane. If you'd like me to come with, I'm more than happy to assist."

"I'm sure they'd love to meet you. Enough of me, though. How did Lydia of Whiterun end up being a housecarl for the Dragonborn?"

"I've been training with the city guards here since I was a girl. My parents fought in the Great War for the Imperial Legion and I was raised by the Pelagia family while they were gone," she explained.

"My father Vanrik fought in that war, as well."

"And he's still alive? That was a rough war."

"It was, indeed. I was three years old when it started."

"I was still a baby. Sadly, they didn't make it out."

He frowned. "I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"It's quite alright, my Thane. That was a long time ago. The Pelagias and the city guards are my family, now. The Jarl took notice of my fighting one day and pulled me aside to ask if I'd ever be interested in being a housecarl for somebody. I'd been wanting to get out of the city for a while, so I accepted. And here we are. He said if he ever named another Thane of his city, I'd be assigned to that person."

He raised his mug. "To the Legion and the Empire. Down with the Thalmor and their dogs."

"Bold statement. Aren't you afraid somebody will hear you?" she laughed, raising her own mug.

"I'm the Dragonborn. They can try to thwart me."

"Spoken like a true Nord."

"It will be a couple weeks before I'm ready to travel to High Hrothgar, Lydia. I plan on traveling to Darkwater Crossing to retrieve what I can of what I lost. Care to join me?"

"It'd be an honor, Dragonborn."