Skyrim: Legend of the Dovahkiin

Instruction 7

Lydia resisted the urge to let out a bored sigh as she sat on the back saddle of the horse her Thane had taken, Eloa riding just a bit ahead of them. It had been a few days since they'd left Riverwood with the mystery woman. Lydia was strongly against following some stranger into what could be a trap, but as ever, her Thane had objected. Of course, he had a reason. He always had a reason. After he explained everything to her she couldn't help but agree with his choice to travel to Kynesgrove. Still, she found it just a bit difficult to process everything he'd told her. The mysterious group of enemies that Eloa was hiding from was one thing, but dragons coming back from the dead was on an entirely different scale.

Dragon mounds were all over Skyrim. You couldn't travel any length of distance without seeing one or two along the way. A cold shiver ran down the Housecarl's spine. If dragons were truly coming back to life, then Skyrim was in more trouble than she originally believed.

"It's a scary thought, dragons coming back to life." her Thane said, tearing her from her thoughts.

Lydia blinked. "How did you—"

"Your face gives too much away," he told her, a small hint of amusement in his tone. "You'd be a terrible card player."

Truth be told, the wolf within him could feel the fear and uncertainty radiating off her. It was so palpable he could almost reach out and grab a fistful of it. When they'd fought their way past the traps and nightmares of Yergen's tomb Spartacus hadn't sensed any fear in her, even when they came face to face with a Death Lord. The only thing that could guess was causing her so much anxiety were the dragons.

"My Thane, do you really believe dragons are coming back to life?"

"Yes and no," the young Nord answered. "With everything that's happened recently I wouldn't rule the possibility out, but I don't put much stock in anything I haven't seen with my own eyes either."

"You really expect to see a dragon being resurrected?"

Spartacus merely shrugged. "I'm not sure what to expect to be honest, Lydia. They only thing either of us can do is be on our guard."

A few hours later Spartacus could finally see the town coming into view. He expected to see the sight of travelers and Khajiit merchants going about their daily routines, as was common in each of the cities and the towns that surrounded them. Instead he was greeted by the sight of dead bodies and panicked citizens.

Spartacus spurred his horse to go faster. "Eloa!"

"Already on it!" she said as her own horse broke into a full gallop.

As he drew closer a very familiar smell suddenly engulfed his nostrils. The smell of burnt flesh. Spartacus then noticed the sky had darkened yet there was not a single cloud in the sky. As he focused his magical senses he could feel the suffocating presence of a powerful spell. Yet unlike the typical magic he was accustomed to, this felt far older than anything he'd ever experienced before. Older, and very familiar.

"A dragon," He said, his tone low and serious. "Looks like Eloa was right after all."

Lydia's scanned the skies, confused. "I don't see anything."

"Trust me, it's here," the young Nord told her. "I can feel it."

The trio came to a stop at the town entrance and dismounted. As they began to make their way to the burial site a woman quickly stepped in front of them.

"You three, what are you doing?" she question through her clearly shaken voice. "You aren't thinking of actually going to the burial site are you?"

"That's the plan." Lydia affirmed.

The woman's face twisted in a look of utter fear and terror. "I beg you three to please reconsider. In case you didn't know there's a dragon at the top of that hill, and the guards who were sent to kill it haven't returned. If you go up there you'll all be killed."

Eloa turned to the Harbinger. "Let's hurry, we may already be too late."

Thane and Housecarl nodded and made their way up the hill, ignoring the woman's plea. As they rushed towards the burial mound the young Nord noticed the discarded weapons that lay strewn upon the ground, taking particular interest in the bows and arrows. Having dealt with one dragon, he knew they would come in handy.

"Lydia, Eloa, you two grab a bow and as many arrows as you can carry. We'll need them."

"I take it you have something planned?" Eloa queried as she grabbed a hunting bow.

Spartacus nodded. "I'll draw its attention and keep it at bay while the two of you cripple its wings with your arrows. Once its on the ground, I'll deal with the rest."

"That plan doesn't sound very safe for you." Lydia pointed out, clearly frustrated at her Thane's disregard for his own safety.

"That's why it'll probably work," the young Harbinger said flatly. "Come on, we've wasted enough time already."

The trio raced up the hill as fast as they could, periodically looking to the sky for any signs of danger. As they drew closer to the burial mound, Spartacus felt the raw energy of a powerful spell at work. The feeling was sinister and necromantic, and far stronger than anything he'd ever felt. After his battle with the dragon at the Western Watchtower in Whiterun, he'd become strangely accustomed to the kind of magic the ancient creatures used, and this magic was no different.

This was dragonic magic at work.

Finally reaching the top of the hill, the three warriors were greeted by the sight of an extremely large black dragon hovering over the burial mound. Spartacus quickly pulled Eloa and Lydia behind a large boulder in an attempt to hide their presence.

Lydia and Eloa opened their mouths to protest but stopped once they saw the young warrior's shocked expression.

"Hey, what's wrong with you?" Eloa asked, slightly put off by the man's sudden mood shift.

"That's the same dragon that destroyed Helgen," the young warrior answered, turning to look both women in the eye. "That dragon... Is Alduin."

"What!" Eloa exclaimed, peeking out to catch a glimpse of the dragon. "Are you sure? Are you absolutely certain?"

Spartacus nodded grimly. "Yes, that's him. No doubt about it."

"So that's him," Lydia said, looking upon the large dragon with a mixture of awe and terror. "That's the world eater himself," she turned back to her Thane. "What are we going to do? Can we… Can you beat him?"

"First we wait and see what he does," Spartacus explained. "Eloa, you said dragons were coming back to life but you had no idea how, right? Well I get the feeling you're about to find out. Keep quiet and don't do anything until I give the signal, got it?"

The two women gave each other concerned looks before nodding. Spartacus couldn't help but admit that he was also curious as to how the dragons were being brought back to life.

"Sahloknir! Ziil gro dovah ulse!"


Lydia and Eloa both shuddered as the dragon's shout echoed through the air like a thunder clap and shook the entire landscape. A dark swirl of magic suddenly shot out from the burial mound as the ground beneath them began to shake. The three warriors watched in utter disbelief as the skeletal corpse of the long dead dragon came bursting from the mound, showering the area with dirt and rock. The dragon crawled out of its tomb, its triumphant roar spitting the overcast sky. Spartacus looked on as the dragon's skin was restored to its former splendor and suppressed a shudder.

The dragon was far more sinister looking than the one he'd fought at the watcher tower in Whiterun, and easily larger. Its skin was a strange silver like color outlined with streaks of purple. The spikes in its back were long and deadly looking, and the Dragonborn found himself inwardly chuckling to himself. He would not be leaping on to this dragon's back anytime soon.

Eloa and Lydia both looked on with expressions of shock and amazement. So this was how the dragons were being brought back, resurrection from their master. The two ancient creatures began to converse with one another.

"Alduin, thuri! Boaan tiid vokriiha suleyksejun kruziik?" The newly resurrected dragon seemed to ask.

"Geh, Sahloknir, kaali mir."

Spartacus broke cover and made his way toward the two dragons, skyforge sword firmly in his right hand, while his strongest ward spell shimmered in his left. As he knew all too well, dragons were very fond of burning their victims alive. Using a shield was useful when it came to blocking the fiery spell of a mage, but dragonfire was far more lethal and a hell of a lot hotter that anything a spellcaster could conjure. Using a ward spell to keep the beast's flames at bay while he countered with his sword was the best strategy he could think of at the moment.

When it came to destruction and many of the other schools of magic, Spartacus was the first to admit he was severely lacking in their mastery. Time, effort and great patience were required when it came to each aspect of magical training, and even then it was still a difficult craft to master. Unfortunately, Spartacus had spent many of his first years of training honing his skills with a sword to a razor's edge, and the rest into the development of combat tactics, which he also sharped to their finest point.

He had developed his magical abilities enough to the point where he was able to fend of any rouge mages or spell-swords who would think to accost him fairly well, but he was still far off from mastering the art. He did however have a natural affinity for the restoration school of magic, particularly protection wards. Though he still had a long way to go to attain true mastery, he was confident that what he did know would be enough to hold the dragon's flames at bay.

At the sound of approaching footsteps, the newly resurrected dragon turned its head in the young Nord's direction. The dragon's eyes flashed and it bared sharp, lethal looking teeth, snarling as it glared balefully at the young warrior. Spartacus stopped in his tracks, raising his sword in a defensive manner, though he didn't summon the ward.

Then, much to Spartacus' surprise and astonishment, Alduin, who had been silently hovering above both him and the other dragon, spoke. "Ful, losei Dovahkiin? Zu'u koraav nid nol dov do hi."

The young warrior stared back at the ancient creature, confused. Alduin seemed to sense his confusion and slowly shook his head. "You do not even know our tongue, do you? Such arrogance, to dare take for yourself the name of Dovah."

For a reason he could not explain, Spartacus found himself grow angry at the dragon's words. As if his very pride had been insulted. "A bold thing to say from so high a perch, world eater." the young Harbinger spat, making sure to add a mocking tone to the dragon's moniker.

There was a flash of anger in the creature's eye for no more then a second before it was quickly replaced by what the Nord could only describe as either a smirk or a smile. Both of which seemed mirthless and devoid of any humor.

A low, gravely chuckle rumbled in Alduin's chest. "Ah, I had forgotten the bravado you mortals tend to favor when faced with adversity. It will make your death all the more Brit, satisfying."

Alduin then craned his neck to address his follower. "Sahloknir, krii Daar Pahlok Joore."

Spartacus had barely thrown his left hand out in front of himself and summoned his ward before white hot dragon fire engulfed him. He surged forward, sword raised level with his face, ready strike the moment the flames let up on him. The spell preformed far beyond his expectations, the dragon's flames washing harmlessly over the protective barrier as he rushed the creature. Sahlokknir broke off the stream of flame and drew his neck back, preparing to savage the Dovah pretender.

Spartacus quickly canceled his spell and gripped his sword with both hands. The dragon let out snarl as he lunged to capture the Nord in its maw and was met with empty air as he quickly sidestepped the attack. Spartacus spun and swung his sword up in a wide arc that caught the dragon right on its neck, Skyforge steel biting deep into the soft flesh. Dark blood spurted from the wound, painting both his armor and skin in a brilliant shade of crimson. Spartacus winced as the creature's bodily fluid splashed against his skin.

Dragon blood was almost hot to the touch!

Sahlokknir roared in pain and swung its tail toward the small human, hellbent on crushing him. Spartacus barely managed to duck to oncoming blow, the air above him making an audible noise as the large appendage passed overhead. Two arrows flew forward and stuck the dragon in two separate parts of its massive body. The first managed to punch through the armor hide of its enormous flank, and the second shaft punched clean through the soft membrane of its wing.

Spartacus turned to see Lydia and Eloa throwing out more arrows in dragon's direction, pleased that they were sticking to the protective cover the large boulder provided them. Sahlokknir's eyes flashed with anger, and her turned toward the two women.

"Hi Mey..." he muttered, and released a stream of fire.

Eloa and Lydia quickly threw themselves back behind the boulder as white hot dragon fire washed over their cover. The heat of the flames alone felt hot enough to burn away their flesh, and Eloa had to suppress a shiver of fear as a gruesome image flashed through her mind. As she and Lydia readied another arrow, the boulder behind them suddenly shattered behind them, knocking both women to the ground.

Sahlokknir loomed over the two warriors and looked down upon them like an angry god, eyes feral and savage. The women watched wide eyed as the massive dragon drew it's snake like head back and prepared to tear them apart. As the beast's maw neared Lydia noticed, to her utter astonishment, her thane leap high in the air, spin once, and drive a spear right through the dragons neck in one fluid motion. Sahlokknir howled a bloody roar as he feel to the ground, writhing in agony.

Scrambling to her feet Lydia snatched up her bow and readied an arrow, aiming at the wounded dragon's now exposed underbelly.

"No, Lydia," her Thane said as he stalked towards the beast. The Housecarl noted a dark look in Nord's eyes and immediately lowered her weapon. "He's mine."

Firming the grip on his sword Spartacus broke out into a full sprint and charged his half dead target, thanking his luck that he'd found that spear lying on the ground. With a spear through his windpipe, Sahlokknir wouldn't be able to shout fire at the young Nord.

Which left him vulnerable to his attacks.

Spartacus went into a full out assault against the large wyrm, hacking and slashing away at its neck, side and underbelly, desperately trying to put the beast down. Sahlokknir, though mortally wounded with a spear through his neck, fought back with savage ferocity and wild abandon. As Spartacus lifted his blade to strike, the dragon lashed out at the Nord with his clawed wing, catching him completely off guard. The dagger like talon raked across the leather folds of his armor near his abdomen, puncturing the material and cutting into his flesh, blood gushing forth.

Spartacus let out a pained cry, stumbled forward and fell to the ground, clutching his wound. More times than he cared to count the young Nord had been seriously injured in battle. He'd been slashed and impaled by sword, shot and pierced by both bow and arrow and crossbow, burned and electrocuted by mages, and had bones broken by hammers and maces. Each one of those injuries had been excruciatingly painful, and half of them had nearly killed him. But of all the myriad of wounds he'd received, injuries doled out by a dragon were easily the most painful.

Sahlokknir snarled, snaked his head backwards and prepared to finish the accursed mortal off. Four arrows suddenly lodged themselves in his side, and the dragon roared in pain. Sahlokknir looked to his left and saw the two other humans that had accompanied the Dovahkiin charging at him, loosing as many arrows as they could.

He roared as he delivered a mighty strike with his massive tail.

It had happened so fast that Lydia almost didn't have time to throw up her shield. The dragon's appendage slammed into her with a force she'd never thought possible and was violently thrown some ten feet in the opposite direction while Eloa, who had been close behind her, barely managed to duck the blow. Her hand began to go for her sword when the dragon suddenly followed up with a crippling blow from its folded wing. Eloa's face twisted in a soundless scream as she too was throw off her feet and sent crashing to the ground.

Sahlokknir stalked forward towards the two mortals, murder in his eyes. He could feel himself grow weaker with each of his steps. Thanks to the accursed Dragonborn, he would most likely succumb to his wounds, but not before he slaughtered the boy's companions first.


Sahlokknir snapped his head to the side and caught a glimpse of blurred movement moments before he felt two swords pierce him from below. The dragon howled in agony as the Dovahkiin twisted his blades before yanking them out and rolling out from underneath the beast. Sahlokknir fell to the ground, no longer having the strength support his own weight due to the massive amount of blood he'd lost. He looked the Nord over and noticed the wound he had given him had stopped bleeding. The insufferable boy must have healed himself while he was focused on on his two companions.

Spartacus glanced behind him. Both Eloa and Lydia, to his releif, were still alive, though severely injured. Lydia's left arm had been mangled and she struggled to breath. She had most likely broken a few ribs as well. Eloa had taken the full force of Sahlokknir's wing head on and most likely had massive internal damage. If the battle continued, there was a good chance that both of them could end up crippled or dead.

He needed to end this.

Gripping his swords, Spartacus made his way to where Sahlokknir lay. The dragon, aware of its impending demise, made no attempt to attack. He had fought against the Dragonborn in single combat and had been bested. His soul, by their rights, belonged to the Dovahkiin.

Sahlokknir turned his gaze upon the Nord and spoke. "Pruzah grah, Dovahkiin. To hi aal lost pruzaan zey, hi fen neh viik drog Alduin."

Spartacus did not know any languages of Tamriel other than common tongue, and this of course included dragon speech. Yet something within him stirred, and he found himself saying words not entirely his own.

"I will face your master, and he too shall fall."

The young Nord sheathed the sword in his left hand, raised his remaining blade over the fallen dragon and plunged it through his eye and drove it straight to his brain. Sahlokknir shuddered and let out a weak dying growl before finally going still. Just as it had happened with the dragon at the western watchtower, Sahlokknir's body began to burn away, and the wisps of his soul poured into the Dragonborn. Spartacus lightly sighed as the last of the dragon's essence flowed in him, and he made his way to where Lydia and Eloa lay. He immediately went to work healing the two women, only stopping once his magicka pool reached its limit.

"You two okay?" he asked as he helped them to their feet.

Eloa nodded. "We are now, thanks to you," she smiled at him. "I guess I owe you some answers."

Before he could even answer, Spartacus looked over to his right and paled at the sight. Alduin was flying right at the three of them faster than anything he'd ever seen.

Thinking quickly, the young Nord grabbed the two women and, using his lycan strength, tossed them far off to the side. He'd barely had time to even turn before the world eater scooped him up in his blade like talons, one of them actually managing to slice a large gash down his arm. The world was a blur of colors as Alduin flew in and around the area with the Harbinger tightly trapped in his claws. Spartacus managed to glimpse a brief image of his surroundings, that of the lightly wooded area around the burial site. Despite his struggles and even with his lycan strength, the young Nord could not budge.

Spartacus then looked up and noticed Alduin looking right at him, His lips seemingly curled up in a malevolent smirk. Then, to his utter horror, he felt the world eater release him. He went into free fall for no more than ten seconds, meaning he wasn't that high above ground, but that didn't make what followed any less painful. He could feel almost every bone in his body shatter like glass as he went crashing through the trees that surrounded the area. Spartacus crashed into the ground, tumbling and rolling violently before slamming into a large boulder.

He lay upon the large rock in a bloody, mangled heap, barely alive. Had it not been for his lycan durability, the Nord was certain he would have perished in the crash. He coughed, and blood gushed forth from his mouth, pain wracking his entire body. His left arm had been broken at an unnatural angle and he could feel at least one of his ribs puncturing through his flesh. His legs had suffered little from the fall, but his right knee was undoubtedly shattered. The young warrior let out a pained howl has he shifted himself to lay against the boulder. A large wad of thick blood again rushed up from his mouth and splattered onto the ground.

Spartacus could barely think of anything as wave after wave of unending pain flashed though his body, sending him into violent coughing fits. So focused was the young Nord on the pain that plagued his body that he never noticed the gargantuan form of Alduin looming over him. The dragon god slammed its clawed foot into the already injured man, slowly, deliberately, driving one of his blade like talons into his right shoulder. An agonized cry of pain erupted from the Nord's throat, eliciting a sinister grin from the black dragon. Spartacus looked into the world eater's eyes, and for the first time in the years since his first battles back in Cyrodiil, mortal fear gripped him.

Alduin fixed his crushing gaze upon the Nord and sneered. "The mortal finally learns his place before me." he leaned in closer. "Is this not simpler? Is this not your natural state? It is the unspoken truth that Joor are made to be Rel, to be ruled. Ko Oblaan Hi Fen Unstiid Kreh Wah Mii."

"If you're going to kill me, then kill me," The Nord spat through his pain. "Don't just stand there talking about it."

His remark seemed to amuse the dragon god, who let out a low, gravely chuckle. "To kill you now would serve no purpose other than to remove an insignificant obstacle from my path, one that may yet have use in the future."

Spartacus furrowed his brow. "You expect mean to... Join you?"

"Niid, Zu'u Prodah Hi Wah Krif, Ahrk Dir!" Alduin bellowed, his eyes boring into the Nord's. "Zu'u Laan Hi Wah Meyz Mul, Dovahkiin. Ahrk Fod Hi Dreh, Zu'u Fen kriin Hi, Ahrk Gevahzen Wah Pah Daar Dii Thu'um Los Zok Mul."

His last words spoken, Alduin roughly withdrew his talon from the Dragonborn's shoulder, lifted himself into the sky, and flew off into the distance. Spartacus lay against the boulder, blood flowing hotly down his arm and onto the snowy ground beneath him. The world around him began to spin, and his vision began to flicker as he lost consciousness. He dimly heard voices call out to him, both familiar and unknown. He managed to raise his head enough to see Lydia and Eloa running towards him, two guards and a woman in mage robes close behind them. He watched with a blank, lifeless stare as they finally reached him, their lips moving frantically as they looked upon him with concerned eyes.

He briefly wondered what words their mouths were forming before his vision flickered for a final time, and darkness consumed him.

Well there you have it guys. After almost an entire year of waiting, chapter 20 is finally complete. First off, I want to apologize for taking so long with the update. There have been a plethora of reasons behind the delay, the main one being work. Now, with that out of the way, here are some people I want to address.

Guest: Hey Zero. I know that Spartacus is a badass warrior with a dangerous past, but are u ever going to introduce a character that is going to be more of a challenge for him to fight? A more HUMAN character I mean.

Answer : Now while I understand how you feel regarding Spartacus just going through his enemies, you have to understand that like you kind of said, he's a trained warrior. The only people he's had to really fight are bandits and undead, so he really hasn't gone up against anyone who can fight on par with himself. That being said, this is also the very beginning of the story, and as it progresses, there WILL be characters who with push the Dragonborn to his limits. Hell, I've kinda already introduced two of the characters who accomplish that.

A fan Mr. X: Hi :) The first thing- your story is amazing-I read a lot of skyrim fanfic's, but by far, yours is the most favorite of mine. It' soo original to start Dovahkiin's journey from companions perspective. About the protagonist name- when I realised his name was Spartacus I started to laugh with tears- the name is really a badass one :D I read a lot of books about him, and I know spartacus dies in the end with honor and glory. Would be nice to see him die in this story too. I know it would be dark plotwist but it would be interesting. BeCouse now everyone thinks that this dovahkiin is some invulnerable super hero, who is most handsome looking, the strongest man in the story, everyone praises him and love him, a few characters despises him, but we can't feel the hate, couse those characters aren't really interesting or taking a big role in the story. Spartacus is a hero, whom just can't die until he defeats Alduin. And as I see from how many chapters are here, he won't kill Alduin anytime soon. But if spartacus died, maybe a new dragonborn would emerge? Maybe Rya would become one? Id like to see some unexcepted things on your story :) keep the good work, i promise I'll wait for your chapters until the story is over ;)

Answer: I'm not sure whether you're being sarcastic and belittling me and my story or you're being serious. But, you have brought up valid points. Like I've said before, this is the very beginning of the story, so there are going to be things that seem cliché and predictable. The hate surrounding Spartacus is real, I assure you. But, like you pointed out, the ones who hate him havet had their time in the spotlight yet. Once the story gets really going, this is going to be a seriously emotional and anxiety filled FanFic, lol. So stick around guy.

Dragon language translation: "Ko Oblaan Hi Fen Unstiid Kreh Wah Mii." (in the end, you will always bend to us)

"Niid, zu'u prodah hi wah krif, Ahrk dir!" (No, I want you to fight, and die!)

"Zu'u Laan Hi Wah Meyz Mul, Dovahkiin. Ahrk Fod Hi Dreh, Zu'u Fen kriin Hi, Ahrk Gevahzen Wah Pah Daar Dii Thu'um Los Zok Mul." (Something along the lines of: I want you to grow strong Dragonborn, so that when I kill you, all will know my voice is stronger)

"Pruzah grah, Dovahkiin. To hi aal lost pruzaan zey, hi fen neh viik drog Alduin." (Well fought, Dragonborn. Though you may have bested me, you will never defeat lord Alduin.)

Lastly, I want to take this time to thank everyone who has favorited/followed and reviewed the story and thank those who have held on for dear life in the hope that I had not abandoned this story. If you guys see any spelling mistakes please let me know.

Until the next chapter