Chapter 6 The Dargonborn Born
It had only been a few days since our last meeting, but Astrid looked… rough.
Dirt clung to her torn sleeves, faint scratches lined her arms, and her braid—normally neat—was half undone, strands falling over her flushed cheeks. Even the way she breathed, slow and heavy, made it clear she'd just fought her way through something ugly.
Yet her presence felt different. Stronger.
There was a sharpness in her eyes now—like someone who had stared into ancient power and walked away with more than just bruises.
Did she… see a Dragon Word Wall?
Before I could say anything, she stepped in and hooked an arm around my shoulder, pulling me into her warmth.
"Hey," she said, her voice rough yet strangely soft. "You've gotten stronger since last time."
Her body heat seeped through my robes. Normally, that tone of hers would shoot a shiver down my spine.
But right now? It didn't.
Maybe because she looked so tired. So real.
And somehow, that eased the guilt gnawing at me for spending days grinding while she risked her life in a dungeon.
"A-ah, not really," I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck. "Just leveled a bit. I'm still not that strong."
Astrid's lips curled into a familiar, mischievous smirk. Her eyes brightened—just a bit, like teasing me genuinely lifted her mood.
"Oh? And who was it again," she leaned closer, nudging my cheek with her shoulder, "who promised we'd spar when we met again?"
Ah.
There it was.
The guilt that had softened suddenly flickered—but not painfully. More like… a reminder. A normal one.
She wasn't blaming me for anything. She still treated me the same.
Somehow, that made the pressure in my chest lighten.
"I—t-that's— Come on, that's not fair. I'm a mage, you're a warrior."
She chuckled under her breath, and the sound was warm in a way I wasn't used to.
Then, smoothly, she looped her arm around my neck and pulled me in—so close my cheek brushed against the side of her chest. My heart almost jumped out of my ribcage.
"Ohh~ so you're the kind of man who doesn't keep his promises?" she whispered, voice dripping with mock disappointment. "Hmm… then forget it."
That tone.
That smug, evil, beautiful tone.
My irritation flared.
"Fine! If you insist—" I grabbed her wrist and freed myself from her hold, "—even if the timing sucks, let's go!"
Astrid straightened, brushing dirt from her armor with a flick of her fingers. A spark lit behind her eyes.
"Hoho, now that sounds like a man," she said, smirk deepening.
Before our argument could evolve into a duel, a sharp crackle filled the air—like invisible static snapping.
Farengar slammed a book shut.
The torches flickered.
A wave of magical pressure rolled outward from him, pressing against our skin like a warning hand.
"Could you two," he growled, voice low and trembling with irritation, "settle your business outside of Whiterun? If you fight here, half the city will get hurt."
Astrid and I froze.
Even the air seemed to stop moving.
I stared at him, wide-eyed.
This wasn't the bored court wizard from the game. This was a man genuinely afraid two idiots were about to blow up his workplace.
"…Whoa," I've never seen an NPC this angry.
Astrid whispered back, "Whoops.. he's angry"
Her hand brushed mine briefly—reassuring, grounding.
Somehow, that small gesture washed away the rest of my guilt.
"Anyway," Farengar continued, clearing his throat as magical pressure slowly dissipated, "Astrid, did you manage to bring the Dragonstone?"
The atmosphere in the room was still heavy. The torches flickered from Farengar's earlier flare of magic, shadows dancing across the stone walls.
Astrid stepped forward, boots scraping softly against the floor. She reached behind her, pulled out the cracked, ancient tablet, and set it carefully on Farengar's table.
Despite her exhaustion, her posture straightened—pride slipping into her expression.
"Here it is," she said, her voice steady. "Any information on it?"
Farengar adjusted his glasses and leaned in, fingers tracing the glowing rune lines. "Delphine—our associate—has begun translating parts of it."
A quiet rustle came from the corner.
Delphine stepped forward, hood low, cloak wrapped tightly around her body.
Not a single bit of her face showed beneath the shadow—only the faint glint of sharp eyes. She moved with practiced caution, like someone expecting assassins behind every door.
She gave the slightest nod, confirming Farengar's words, but said nothing.
It made sense—she wasn't supposed to reveal herself yet. Not until the Dragonborn fully awakened.
I opened my mouth to ask something when—
Heavy, hurried footsteps thundered down the hallway.
The air tensed instinctively.
Irileth, the dark-skinned Dunmer captain with sharp blue eyes and her hand already on her blade, burst through the doorway.
Her eyes were blazing.
"Farengar! You must come with me. A dragon has been sighted near the city!"
The room fell silent—every breath held.
Farengar's lips parted, not in fear but fascination. "A dragon… fascinating. What is it doing here?"
Astrid stiffened beside me, instinctively reaching for her weapon. I felt her fingers twitch—ready, alert, awakened by danger.
Irileth didn't waste time. "Move! We go to Jarl Balgruuf immediately."
We rushed out, the cold stone corridors amplifying the echo of our boots. Guards hurried past in panic while flickering torchlight cast wavering shadows along the walls.
By the time we reached Dragonsreach's war room, the tension felt thick enough to taste.
A breathless guard knelt in front of the Jarl.
"A dragon was spotted at the Western Watchtower," he reported, voice shaking. "He was incredibly fast—faster than anything I've seen."
Balgruuf leaned forward in his throne, brows knitted. "Did he attack?"
"No, my Jarl. He simply circled the tower. When I saw him, I ran back immediately to warn you."
The Jarl nodded slowly, then turned his sharp gaze toward us.
Toward me.
"You—Alex." His voice boomed across the hall. "You said you cleared an entire bandit camp alone, didn't you?"
Astrid's reaction was immediate.
She jerked her head toward me so fast her braid whipped over her shoulder. Her eyes were wide, disbelief splashing across her face.
"What? You!? Cleared a bandit camp alone!?"
Her finger poked my arm—hard. "When!? How!?"
I winced. Great. There goes the surprise.
The Jarl frowned at the outburst. "You two know each other?"
Astrid stepped forward, still glaring at me like I'd committed a crime.
"Yes, my Jarl. We were together in Helgen during the dragon attack. But only one of us was allowed to enter when we came to report."
A muscle on the Jarl's jaw twitched. He looked between the two of us—skeptical, calculating.
"Then prove your words." He stood, the hall feeling smaller as his presence filled it. "Show me that you can handle dangerous threats. Join Irileth… and give me good news."
My annoyance spiked for two reasons:
One—Balgruuf doubting me.
Two—Astrid exposing the "bandit camp" story so dramatically I could feel half the room staring.
But this mission… was important.
I needed to confirm something.
Whether I'm the Dragonborn… or Astrid is.
I exhaled, steadying myself.
"Fine," I said. "Let's go."
Astrid stepped closer—shoulder brushing mine, concern flickering behind her earlier shock.
And suddenly, I felt more prepared.
"Very well, my Jarl," I said. "I'll help take down the dragon."
The Western Watchtower
By the time we arrived, the Western Watchtower looked like a corpse still smoldering from its last breath.
Half of the stone structure had collapsed inward, black with soot. Charred beams jutted out like broken ribs. Smoke curled from cracks and drifted into the sky, staining the clouds with ash. The air tasted like burnt metal and fear.
Wounded guards lay scattered around the courtyard—some groaning, some barely conscious. The smell of burnt flesh mixed with healing poultices stung the back of my throat.
Irileth marched ahead, her armor clinking sharply.
"Stay alert!" she shouted, voice cutting through the dread. "We don't know where the dragon will appear!"
The soldiers flinched at every sound. Some clutched their spears with trembling hands. Others stared at the sky, pale and hollow-eyed.
I crouched beside a guard with a scorched arm and handed him a potion.
"Drink this," I said.
He obeyed immediately, fingers shaking around the vial.
Dragons aren't supposed to exist… not anymore.
In any normal era, they were stories, legends, myths whispered to children.
But with Alduin back… everything was different.
Everything was wrong.
A low whoooosh rolled across the plains—a sound so deep it vibrated in my ribs.
I froze.
That wasn't wind.
That was wings.
Enormous wings beating the air.
The sky suddenly darkened.
Then—
ROOOOOOOOOOOOOAR!!!
The roar felt like it punched the air out of my lungs.
Guards flinched, some dropping their weapons entirely.
Irileth pointed upward, eyes fierce.
"EVERYONE, PREPARE!!"
My heart hammered. My hands moved before I could think.
I summoned my Flame Atronach—fiery energy spiraling beside me as the elemental burst into existence with a crackling hiss.
Blue light enveloped my hands as I conjured my Bound Bow, the ethereal weapon materializing with a sharp, metallic hum.
Mana surged through my veins—hot, alive, volatile.
The dragon swooped in—a massive beast of scales and hatred. Its wings kicked up dust storms with every flap. It hovered high above, tilting its head to glare down at us with glowing, molten eyes.
To him, we were nothing.
Just insects.
Its chest expanded—
"NO—HE'S BREATHING IN!!" a guard screamed.
The dragon unleashed a torrent of fire.
The world became a wall of roaring orange.
Screams pierced the chaos.
Shields melted like wax.
Men threw themselves to the ground, armor glowing red-hot.
"STOP RUNNING! HOLD THE LINE! SHIELDS UP!" Irileth roared, her voice raw and commanding.
I felt my knees wobble, terror flooding my spine.
This wasn't a game.
This wasn't numbers or mechanics.
This was death—real, scorching, merciless.
Then—
I saw her.
Astrid.
Standing in the middle of the chaos like a warrior carved from steel.
Her shield raised high, boots planted firmly, hair whipping violently in the heat.
No fear. No hesitation.
Just fury.
"COME HERE, YOU BIG LIZARD!!" she bellowed.
"DON'T RUN JUST BECAUSE YOU CAN FLY!! COME DOWN AND FIGHT!!"
Her voice cut through the flames.
Something inside me snapped back into place.
My fear didn't vanish… it just didn't matter anymore.
I aimed at the dragon's wings and unleashed Sparks, lightning crackling from my fingertips.
My Flame Atronach hurled fireballs beside me, each one lighting up the sky.
Still not enough.
"Astrid!" I shouted. "Is that axe just for decoration!?"
She grinned—wild and excited, eyes blazing with adrenaline.
"Hahaha! Good point!"
She pulled her arm back and hurled her axe with a fierce yell.
The weapon spun through the air and slammed into the dragon's left wing.
The beast screeched, losing balance.
"Take this!!!"
I poured every drop of mana into my last blast of Sparks—electricity crackled so violently it burned my fingertips. The bolt struck the dragon, electricity racing across its scales.
The wings faltered.
The beast spiraled.
Then—
CRASH!!!
The dragon slammed into the ground, tearing a trench through dirt and stone.
Astrid charged before anyone else could react.
The dragon roared and spewed fire directly at her.
She raised her shield—and the flames smashed against it in a swirling inferno.
Heat exploded outward, the ground turning glassy beneath her feet.
But she didn't budge.
"What's wrong!?" she shouted over the roaring blaze. "Out of fire already!?"
The dragon lunged, jaws snapping toward her head.
Astrid ducked, rolled, and climbed onto its neck like a savage beast.
She stabbed into its scales, each strike spraying sparks and blood.
The monster thrashed violently, wings flapping uselessly.
Astrid held on—shouting, snarling, fighting.
The dragon jerked its head upward to fling her off.
She jumped—
—and delivered a devastating, perfect downward strike.
CRACK!
The dragon's head hit the ground and stayed there.
Its body twitched once… then fell still.
Silence.
Then the guards slowly lowered their shields.
Stared at the corpse.
Realization sinking in.
Cheers erupted—raw, joyous, overflowing with relief.
"WE DID IT!"
"THEY KILLED IT!"
"BY THE GODS, IT'S DEAD!"
I felt the adrenaline explode inside me, my voice rising with theirs.
"HAHAHAHA!! WE DID IT!!!"
Astrid landed beside me, chest heaving, face smudged with soot and triumph.
And for a moment—just one moment—
It felt like we could survive anything.
Irileth planted her sword into the dirt, chest rising and falling, sweat dripping down her brow.
"Truly a Nord warrior!" she declared, pride sharpening her voice.
Astrid exhaled, grinning through exhaustion. Her shield hung loosely from her arm, her shoulders trembling from the fight. She looked alive—burned, bruised, but triumphant.
But then—
A low hum vibrated through the air.
The dragon's corpse twitched.
Scales peeled apart like burning paper.
Light glowed beneath the flesh—white, gold, ancient.
"Astrid… step back," I whispered, but even I couldn't look away.
The dragon's body ignited, not with fire, but with presence—
a light so bright it carved shapes in the smoke.
Flesh dissolved into glowing threads.
Bones crumbled into ash.
Then the entire body shattered into swirling golden runes.
And the soul rose.
A spiraling vortex of ancient power.
The air pulled toward it, tugging our clothes and hair.
The sound was like chanting, whispering, screaming—all at once.
Astrid's eyes widened.
Her lips parted.
Her breath faltered.
The vortex bent toward her.
"A-ALEX…?" she whispered, voice breaking.
"Astrid, don't move—"
Too late.
FWOOOOM!
The dragon's soul slammed into her chest with explosive force.
Astrid choked on a gasp, body jerking backward.
Her legs nearly collapsed.
She grabbed her own arms as if trying to hold herself together.
Her back arched—
her teeth clenched—
her eyes shimmered with burning light.
"G-GHH—!!"
Her voice cracked into a strangled cry.
I rushed to her immediately, catching her shoulders before she fell.
"Astrid—hey! Look at me! Breathe!"
Her fingers clutched my sleeve desperately, knuckles white.
She was shaking violently.
"I-It hurts—!" she gasped, voice trembling. "It's—my chest—my head—i-it's too much—!"
Of course.
Of course it hurt.
The game never showed this part.
The FIRST soul absorption…
must feel like raw power carving itself into your bones.
"Astrid…" I tightened my grip, supporting her weight. "Listen to me. You're not dying. You're absorbing it. You're Dragonborn."
Her breath hitched—half shock, half fear.
"Wh-what… how… why is it inside me—?"
"You can handle it," I whispered, pulling her closer, steadying her. "You're stronger than it. I'm right here. Don't fight it—just breathe."
Her trembling slowed, though her chest still heaved painfully.
Golden light wrapped around her arms and neck, seeping into her skin like living fire.
She squeezed her eyes shut, leaning forward, forehead almost touching my shoulder.
Little by little, her breathing steadied.
When she finally opened her eyes, they glowed faintly—bright gold for a heartbeat before dimming.
"How… how do I use this?" she whispered, voice raw, afraid.
I brushed soot off her cheek with my thumb—slow, careful.
"Remember the word in Bleak Falls. The one that resonated with you. Focus the soul's energy into that… like letting it flow."
She nodded shakily.
Then she planted her feet wide, inhaled deeply, and closed her eyes.
Her fingers uncurled.
Her posture straightened.
The air grew heavier—
wind swirling around her—
dust crawling across the ground.
Her lips parted—
And then—
"FUS!"
BOOOOOOM!!!
A little shockwave exploded outward, sending guards tumbling, knocking me onto one knee.
Irileth dug her boots into the dirt just to stay upright.
Astrid stood at the epicenter, hair whipping, breath trembling, eyes wide with disbelief.
"…I… did that…?" she whispered.
I stepped toward her, placing a steadying hand on her back.
"Yeah," I said softly. "You did. You really are Dragonborn."
Her destiny hadn't changed.
But the fear she felt, the pain she endured, the way she looked at me afterward—grateful, shaken, trusting—
Maybe that part changed.
Because I was here with her.
if you want to support me and more chapters. please visit:
PA_TR_EO_N.C_OM/FRZ10
just remove all the underscore