Dragonborn Saga

[A/n: I’ll be adding a pic for the Realistic Dragon : Human size ratio on Instagram and Discord]

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Castle Breaker! A new Legend was born in Whiterun that day when the culprit of the whole mess pulled down the watchtower on the head of the Dragon. It was simply a spectacle to behold.

Regardless of anything else, all covered their heads fearing the raining rubble of the falling tower. With a cloud of dust blocking the view, the warriors of Whiterun kept their feet ready to either run forward or backward.

Alina wasn’t waiting for the results to appear with the cloud of dust settling so she moved her hand causing a gust of wind to push away the dust. With that, the scene appeared vivid and clear.

Jon was standing with two long chains extending from his gauntlets to a large pile of rubble where an unimaginable scene was witnessed. The Dragon, that terrorized the people for an hour straight, was buried under the rubble with barely his wings and tail visible.

Who would have thought? Who could have imagined?

"The Beast is slain!" Someone shouted.

With this cry. All woke up from their daze.

"By Shor!"

"Is this real? I can’t believe it!"

It was too Incredible to believe right away. A man... just a single man managed to pull down the tower on the head of the Dragon, killing it in the most unexpected way.

"The Dragon... it is dead."

"We made it."

"Its claws. Its claws took my son! I claim the Dragon Claws!"

"I will bathe in the blood of a Dragon tonight."

"Its heart is mine! With it, I’ll rename my clan Dragon-Heart."

"I want the eyes!"

As soon as the state of disbelief was over, another state followed. No one wanted to see such a scene but seeing the corpse of the Dragon, all wanted the same thing. A Piece of the Dragon, a Piece of Glory.

All people were crazed about the Dragon before even licking their wounds. Everything about the Dragon was simply a treasure, even the Court Wizard of Whiterun, Farengar, was screaming like a madman wanting to take all the Dragon for research.

The bizarre situation left some people in shock as it left others in disbelief.

"What kind of bullshit is this? Jon is the one who slew the Dragon. Why would..." Jullanar was angrily retorting but Alina covered her mouth.

Isha stood away from the ground holding a small pebble and tossed it away to hit Wulfur’s armor.

"What was that?" Wulfur asked.

"My faith in humanity." She said.

"All of you, quiet!" Alina shut them up.

All looked at her seeing seriousness in her eyes.

"What’s wrong?" Wulfur asked.

"All those who step ahead of Jon in the next few seconds will die a miserable death."

Alina prophesied something that left the others in a state of confusion. Still, her words were accurate and clear as ever.

Those people who were moved by Greed ran towards the Dragon with their swords and axes wanting to cut a piece of the beast. They didn’t mind Jon who was standing still while his expressions couldn’t be read. Once they arrived at the ruble and started climbing it, their whole world of blunder started to shake metaphorically and in actuality.

The Dragon is still alive and oh boy, he is far from being defeated.

"Joor, hi rahgot zey!" (Mortals, you anger me!)

The supposedly dead Dragon came to life even though hindered by the rubble, it spoke another shout.

"FUS RO DAH!"

The tower that crumbled on the head of Mirmulnir became the demise of those greedy ones that wished to loot the Dragon. Thankfully the fools weren’t many but the fools were dead from the impact of the Unrelenting Force. They were beyond help in all cases.

Jon finally moved from his frozen stance by following the Dragon’s with his head as the latter rose with all its might about to unleash his wrath at the humans who fought him so annoyingly.

Mirmulnir was more than just annoyed, he was frustrated and his scales were carrying many injuries from that tower that fell on his head. Killing those greedy individuals was a refreshing turn but the true hunt was in that big game standing face to face with him.

"Joor, you tried your best. You fought with both honor and dishonor yet you can’t kill me! You are not strong enough. It is your turn to be hunted now."

"Do your worst." Jon’s reply came as swift as a challenge.

Jon knew. He could tell that Mirmulnir was bluffing, both of them were tired. The Dragon in front of him may have been a creature that lived through eras and centuries without withering or dying but that doesn’t mean it is eternal. Even for a Dragon, there was a limit.

On the other hand, Jon was not only tired but also hiding some of his cards. On the Martial side, Jon didn’t hold back at all but on the Magic side, Jon’s identity will be exposed once he starts using his signature spells. Let alone the signature spells, few could match his skill at magic and his disguise may be seen through. On top of all that, he can’t simply use the Thu’um in his first fight against a Dragon and for a good reason.

So far, he has to stick to his plan.

Unfortunately, this wasn’t going to be easy as Mirmulnir wasn’t going to let it be. He is now hell-bent on hunting down Jon even if it is the last thing he’d ever do. Yet with Jon’s skills and power, Mirmulnir had to play dirty too.

When someone wants to hunt a strong foe, one must lay a trap. In this situation, the trap was over there across the plains, the treasure of those warriors and mages who came in a horde to earnestly defend.

Whiterun City.

"Joor, if you want to keep fighting, let’s take this elsewhere?" Mirmulnir moved his wings and rose in the air towards Whiterun.

"Bastard! Who’s playing dirty now?" Jon was infuriated but little could do in the situation.

Everyone else realized what was going to happen and almost panicked.

"Stop it. Shoot down the Dragon, hurry!" Jarl Balgruuf panicked seeing where the Dragon was intending to go.

Jon and everyone else started racing the Dragon to the east hoping to hinder him before he gets the chance to unleash his fires on Whiterun. That when Alina gave a signal.

"The men in the back. Shoot the Ballistas. Now!"

Her voice was heard clear and strong across the plain as if it was carried by the wind itself. Once it reached those in the back, they started preparing the heavy artillery around them. Meanwhile, Mirmulnir took the chance to descend on the retreating men burning and swallowing whoever he sees toying with the weak mortals.

"You truly are scum."

Jon couldn’t tolerate any more death and finally let go of a strong Lightning bolt that hit the Dragon with a mighty blast. Mirmulnir roared in agonizing pain but he was aiming for the moment when Jon attacked him.

As the one famed for being a Hunter among the Dragons, Mirmulnir was not a direct fighter but rather a chaser and a trapper. He would hunt rather than fight and the biggest game in this field is undoubtedly Jon. That’s why when Jon proved to be a resilient prey, Mirmulnir started attacking the other humans to push Jon out of his guard and lure him into a trap.

There, when Jon decreased the distance between himself and Mirmulnir, the latter was not actually focusing on anything except Jon. With Jon this close, Mirmulnir moved his tail in an unseeable speed striking Jon in a split of a second.

"Shit!"

Jon felt as if his bones were breaking apart but he soon adapted with the situation and didn’t resist the attack. He rather teleported himself on the other side of Mirmulnir and landed a full-force [Thunder Cookie].

*ROAR*

It was too painful that Mirmulnir almost felt the damage deep inside his body. Thus was an unprecedented danger level that he didn’t expect to suffer but the plan was to go on with, not to stop right now. Mirmulnir shook off the clingy Jon and took off one more time towards Whiterun without stopping.

"Now!" Alina shouted and terrifying mechanical sounds started sounding by as the large war machines at the back were all shooting at Mirmulnir.

"WULD NAH KEST!" (Whirlwind Fury Tempest)

Mirmulnir perceived the danger of those man-made killing machines and shouted the [Whirlwind Sprint] midair avoiding most of the Ballista Bolts. Still, he suffered a bit of damage.

"Again!" Alina shouted but Mirmulnir towards her.

"YOL TOOR SHUL!"

"WULD NAH KEST!"

Two shouts sounded almost at the same time, the first was Mirmulnir breathing fire at Alina and the latter was Alina escaping him.

’A Thu’um Master? In this day and age?’ Mirmulnir was dumbfounded when Alina used the Whirlwind Sprint to avoid him.

Not only was she a Voice Master but she seemed as annoyingly powerful as that persisting Warrior. She avoided him and kept shooting spells as powerful as that man’s punches. This was leaving him no more option but he kept dragging east and now that the Ballista line was not able to attack him, he can freely descend on Whiterun.

With Mirmulnir breaking away, Jon and the others seemed frustrated as they failed in almost every attempt to stop the flying brute. It was frustratingly hard just to scratch his scales.

"This can’t keep going. We must stop the Dragon or else Whiterun will suffer innumerable casualties." Alina said as she broke the silence and spoke directly to Jon.

Jon sighed with a tired face and looked towards the Dragon thinking of something. He then looked behind him and saw the warriors of Whiterun broken in a sorry state.

This has to end.

"Isha... your Spear." Jon said.

Isha silently passed the [Spear of Bitter Mercy] at Jon who took it and stored it in the Cube. He then looked at Wulfur.

"Can you still launch people?" Jon asked.

"Oh! How far?" Wulfur asked back.

"That far." Jon pointed towards the Dragon.

"... Bastard!" Wulfur exclaimed looking between Jon and the Dragon then reluctantly nodded.

"Send me then."

Jon said and Wulfur carried his large metal shield up.

"Let’s not waste time then."

With a mutual understanding, the two nodded and started running forward.

"You’ll owe me a shield, you hear me?" Wulfur said.

"I’ll bring you the bestest shield you’ll ever carry."

With wide strides, the two were already ahead of the group chasing the dragon with the speed of galloping horses. Jon could indeed fly but he’ll never be as fast as a Dragon, he needed the right boost for the coming launch and Wulfur was the right guy.

Wulfur had learned a unique technique that uses Shields as weapons but sacrifices all the protection they provide. This technique would cause an explosion with a violent blast that can literally make anyone on its other side fly for a fair distance. Actually, Wulfur has learned this technique by observing the Giants launching people to space and here it came.

As Jon and Wulfur gained enough momentum, Jon sped forward and Wulfur struck him from behind. The next thing seen was a human transcending the speed any human being was ever tossed at.

Wulfur was holding a broken spear with a pale face while Jon’s were widened from the shock.

Jon moved towards the dragon in a straight line not controlling his flight one bit. He tried to remember how he was struck from his running speed to this level of madness but all he remembers was the sight of the world widening then stretching and finally the image of the dragon was getting larger in his sight.

"WOOOOOOOOOOOAH!"

This was beyond anything he has ever done. Getting himself blasted towards a Dragon by a giant technique used by Wulfur... this was getting too awesome even for him. The excitement gave him a sense of life as he screamed his lungs out while being a couple of seconds away from the Dragon.

Mirmulnir felt it as well. This was the most vivid hint of Danger a Dragon ever felt when he caught a glimpse of the flying maniac chasing him. Jon’s appearance was terrifying in all sense as he resembled a flying arrow with his head forward and his smile visible.

Mirmulnir knew this was bad, waiting for Jon to hit him is seriously inadvisable while shouting him will take time. He had to evade at all costs.

Indeed, Mirmulnir managed to tilt aside with Jon uncontrollably charging forward. At the moment of the supposed clash, Jon didn’t even bother trying to chase the Dragon. That was not the plan anyway. Instead, it was to ambush him forward.

Jon passed Mirmulnir like a loosened arrow and the Dragon fixed his destination forward once again but he saw a tiny string of metal extending to the upper limit of his sight and an uncomfortable feeling on one of his horns.

Looking forward, it was Jon throwing one of [Ahzidal’s Titan Hands] again. Mirmulnir realized his blunder when Jon was raising the other hand and it was glowing with bright lightning. This time, Jon added a bit of chaos to the mix making the Mystical Tattoos on his arms appear in black.

"Sucker Cookie!"

*KWAAANG!*

The speed of Jon’s flying grip pulling him towards Mirmulnir with the Dragon heading straight forward, the sound of the clash was as terrifying as it appeared. The Dragon Hunt party, the City Guards on the wall, the brave citizens who volunteered to defend their homes, the team of Winterhold, the team of the Labours, the Companions of Jorrvaskr, the Jarl and his men, even the ones who were there by mistake, all those people saw an image that was engraved in their minds for ages to come.

A man flying with a bright fist towards a dragon that charged forward all in the sky and the blinding spectacle of the clash making the bright sky of day darkens in its glamour. In that instant, the whole situation flipped and the Dragon was on the losing side. The punch sent the dragon’s head in the wrong direction with the dragon himself being forced out of his trajectory backward with the punch.

It was too glorious that the men who saw it felt a massive rush of male hormones from the sight of it. Just like how Jon forced the Dragon’s mouth open, his punch was another symbol of manliness to those Nords.

"HAAAAA!"

The glorious scene was enough for them to cheer madly but that didn’t last long, Jon had one more trick to spare under his sleeves.

With Mirmulnir bent backward, Jon had to prevent him from fixing his position or making a comeback so he moved towards the back of the dragon’s neck, chained it well then cast [Gravity Rune] on himself.

A Dragon would naturally resist this spell but as he didn’t resist it, he became unexpectedly heavy for Mirmulnir to balance and the fall happened.

*THUD*

Mirmulnir was just brought down by an RKO.

A massive fall shook the world as the men, women and animals inside and outside Whiterun felt the very impact under their feet and some even tumbled from the shockwave that passed through the ground. This tiny earthquake caused by a falling Dragon may have had a strong impact on the people but the Dragon in question was greatly harmed.

Physical wounds are hard to inflict on a Dragon but this fall caused a strong inner injury that may have caused a fracture somewhere inside Mirmulnir, a welcome change to a certain Jon who managed to evade getting crushed under the dragon with a timely maneuver.

However, unlike the last time when Jon brought down the tower on Mirmulnir, none thought of anything silly or greedy. The dragon is clearly still alive but no matter what they do, none would be able to kill him. Actually, they are now scared.

Scared of the Dragon.

Scared of the Man who is standing in front of the Dragon.

Scared of what will happen next between the Man and the Dragon.

Meanwhile, Jon and Mirmulnir faced one another in an epic image of a man holding the broken Dragon with a chain in one hand and a long spear in the other hand. Mirmulnir was lying on his side trying to recover from the stun but was still l

Keeping both eyes on Jon.

"Mun (Human)... you finally fought with honor."

All of a sudden, Mirmulnir spoke but his voice wasn’t loud or anything. It was weakened because of the damage that was done to his neck and only Jon could hear him.

"Zu’u fun hi wah siiv zin voth aanwo do hin raaz." (I remember telling you to find honor with someone of your size.) Jon replied back in Dovahzul, the Dragon Tongue. It came both as a shock and a surprise to Mirmulnir.

[A/n: the following conversation is going to be in the Dovahzul but I’ll just write it English.]

"Mortal, so you can talk? You hid your power well."

"It was your arrogance that brought your demise, Mirmulnir. You thought no one out there is able enough to bring you down... to kill you."

"Heh! Hehehe! Now you are arrogant. Killing me is fruitless. I have long since paid tribute to my Lord. Once a tribute is paid, my Lord will bring me back and the others will keep challenging the Man powerful enough to defeat me."

"I am indeed arrogant but you are still way over your head. Alduin can reverse time and return the dead Dragons but there is always a Limit. Just like Shor to Auri-El, I am the Limit."

Jon was done talking and now hunting. Mirmulnir wanted to retreat but the [Spear of Bitter Mercy] was there to claim lives. With one overpowered stab, Jon pierced the soft spot on Mirmulnir’s neck twisting the grip as the tip sinks in the Dragon’s flesh.

Mirmulnir was... was... wasn’t he ready?

It was a strange feeling nonetheless... getting killed... by a mere mortal.

How could he describe getting killed? It was hard to say. Mirmulnir was always a smart one even among his kind. He wasn’t reckless or anything like today, after all, he is one of the few that survived in the wild for almost 4000 years. Today was just the day when he intended to celebrate Alduin’s return with a glorious hunt.

But to be put down during his celebration, this was too embarrassing. Even when Alduin comes to revive him, there will be a lot of scolding.

To dragons, normal death is just slumber and with another Dragon powerful enough to bring them back, this wouldn’t be a big problem aside from the price they have to pay to the dragon that revived them.

Still, this feeling of shame was soon replaced by strange emotions... feelings that didn’t belong to Mirmulnir.

He felt those strange emotions that were mostly not his. There was a strong hint of admiration rather than the familiar self-pride, an unrecognized feeling of sadness and regret. Ideas of ancient majestic beings, Deities that were once worshipped, witnesses to all the events of recorded and unrecorded history. These thoughts surely referred to Dragons but weren’t how the Dragon’s thought of themselves... at least not Mirmulnir.

The surprise was that these emotions are that if the man killing him. But how could Mirmulnir feel what Jon was feeling?

Both Jon and Mirmulnir were experiencing something beyond them, seeing through one another beyond any wall, beyond the comfortable and uncomfortable, beyond what is all unnecessary directly at what matters.

The Dragon’s perspective of seeing things where Truth and Power are equals and the same. The Mortal’s perspective of seeing things where every tiny factor had an impact on the insignificant yet important lives they lived.

Aside from the differences, the similarities were more striking than anyone dared to admit. The Love, the Hate, the Fear, the Courage, the Thrill, the Boredom, the Wisdom, the Foolishness.

In one second, the two experienced each other of what they truly are beyond the barriers of privacy, awkwardness or self. Just two fragile tiny beings being pushed around by the unrelenting waves of the bigger scheme of things.

There was no need to exchange any words in this second that was elongated to feel like an age but one thing is certain, as all things, it is coming to an end.

Here, Mirmulnir understood the reason for the strange phenomenon. None of the Dragons he knew ever spoke of this but if he experienced such a state of empathic linkage, such a drive to submission, such a taste of mortality; this means that he is more than just going to a Slumber Death. Now that he thinks of it, this feeling was rarely spoken of by the Dragons of the higher ranks.

"No..."

It was that... the Taboo among the Dov... the unwritten role, the unspoken code, the hearable prayer. The one thing Dragons feel injustice towards.

The feeling when a Dragon kills Another.

"... Dovahkiin!"

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