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Skyrim, Arga's Story

Chapter 6: A Dragon's Soul

By Draconicon

The corridors of Bleak Falls Barrows slid by in a blur as he and Dar'Zakar ran as fast as their legs would carry them. They weren't running towards the surface again, but instead further into the caverns that the barrow hid from the rest of the world. Why?

Arga whipped his hand around, releasing another burst of flame from his palm. It burned through his magicka almost instantly, leaving him empty again, but it'd buy them a few seconds while the swarm of spiders was kept behind the wall of light and heat. He grunted, shaking his head as he went back to running.

"I'm starting to think...that killing the big spider...was a mistake."

The Khajiit at his side nodded in agreement, but didn't say anything. Probably was saving his breath for the running. Probably something that he should do as well, particularly as the skittering of the spiders filled the air again.

They leaped past another Draugr, leaving it behind to be eaten and savaged by a portion of the horde chasing after them. Arga ducked under a swinging axe, letting his momentum carry him through the hallway, and Dar'Zakar followed shortly after, the Khajiit grabbing his hand and following his lead.

This claw isn't worth this sort of mess, he thought, looking at the prize in his hand. If it wasn't for this swarm, we'd be back in Riverwood already, in an inn, having some time to ourselves, but no. That...that thing had babies!

They were running again, rushing further and further into the depths of the earth. He could feel the ground sloping away from them, almost sending them falling forward, a death sentence with the swarm behind them. He threw his hand backwards again, another burst of fire catching a few of the spiders, but all the others did was swarm around the briefly burning obstacles before their fellow crawlers shriveled into husks.

Then they hit a straightaway, with the spiders coming up fast behind them. Arga thought about the potion of magicka that he still had in his pocket. It was something that might help, but only as a last resort. Once he took it, it was gone, and he had no idea how much longer it would take for him to restore his magicka after that. He'd have to time it.

Then...

"Oh...no..."

"This is not good."

Dar'Zakar was right about that. In the distance, at the end of the hallway, was a great door. It spanned the entire spread of the wall, with a circle lock in the middle. There was no way around it, and as far as he could tell, no way through it. The only break in the stone were three lines across the block of stone and the circle in the middle, with three...holes...

He looked down at the claw as they ran. Three holes, three claws. It just might work. If it didn't...well, they were dead anyway.

"Catch."

Tossing it to the side and knowing that the Khajiit would grab it, he pointed ahead of them.

"The wall. That has to be the key."

"You think it will work?"

"It's the only chance we have."

"You'll keep the spiders back?"

"...I'll try."

That was all that the Khajiit seemed to need. As he ran ahead, Arga reached into his pocket and pulled out the little blue bauble of a vial. It was little more than a minor potion, probably not even enough to give him back half of his normal magicka, but it would have to do. He popped the cork and swallowed it down, feeling the familiar tingle of magical power filling his body again.

He stopped a few feet away from the door and turned around. The wave of spiders continued to advance, the bigger ones a bit more slowly than the smaller ones. Of course, that was being a bit generous; the smaller ones were still as big as his hand, each one with a large, hairy body and eyes that were like tiny black gemstones, glittering in the torchlight as they advanced. Arga shook his hand, holding his hands palms up as he forced his magic into his hands. Fire bloomed from his palms, forming two candle-sized flames.

"Make it fast...don't think I can do this...for long."

"I am always fast."

"Hopefully not in bed."

With that, he threw his hands forward, drawing a wall of fire across the floor until it made a barrier between him and the spiders. The little ones stopped, skittering back, and the wave of horrors pulled back a few inches. The bigger ones pushed forward, and he let loose more flows of flames in their direction, aiming for their legs, making the flames count and spread as it went from one fire to another as they danced away from him.

Already, he could feel the magicka fading, the tingles no longer as powerful. The Argonian shook his head, sweeping his hands forward once more, pushing them back another foot or two from the first wall of flame. Crispy bodies were left behind, the little ones starting to flee from the heat.

The bigger ones, however, were more dangerous. He saw one lean back before throwing its head forward, and barely ducked in time to avoid the venomous spit that came flying. He let loose another stream of flame, running it from that one to another large one a few feet away, and then stopped it.

Not much left. Not much left.

Fighting the urge to look behind him and see how Dar'Zakar was doing, he focused his attention on the spiders closest. He couldn't keep up the wall, so he let loose targeted streams. Not from his palm, but from his fingertips, aiming for precision points. The legs, the eyes, something that could debilitate quickly rather than having to kill. He stopped a few more, but the wave was still advancing -

"Arga, come."

The calm Khajiit voice pulled him back, and he leaped through the opening behind him. As soon as he was through, his companion shut the rock wall behind them, leaving the spiders on the other side.

Slowly, the pair of them slumped down against the wall, letting out loud sighs of relief. Dar'Zakar turned to him, shaking his furry head.

"Remember how we agreed 30% for me, after the big spider?"

"Yes?"

"That's going back up to 50%."

"I am completely fine with that."

Considering that they were still alive, he would have been fine with just accepting 25% at this point. The whole adventure had become more a thing to survive than something to profit from, and Arga was starting to wonder if he would be able to get out of this place with his scales intact. The idea that the barrow would be this dangerous hadn't crossed his mind before accepting the offer from Camilla, and he doubted that she would have told him to go up here if she had known it would be quite this bad.

Then again...the whole point had been more revenge for her than to actually get any profit. Now that he thought about it, he should have let it go. He didn't know her, didn't have any attachment. He should have just...

He sighed. No, he couldn't have done that. Not without seeing himself as someone just as bad as Arvel, since she'd suffered such horrible things at the hands of the bandits. They deserved to die for that.

Dar'Zakar was the only exception, and only because he didn't seem to have done anything himself. Just watched as it happened. The guilt was also a handy thing.

Slowly, he pulled himself up, walking down the tunnel. He heard something up ahead, and he wanted to see what it was. Looking around the corner, he stared.

It was an extensive underground chamber, of course, but unlike most others, this one had light streaming in from the outside. It illuminated an altar with a large stone structure beside it, and further past, he could make out some great curved wall, shaped of stone with runes cut into it. Past that, however, was the real prize. Stairs, leading out to the surface of the mountain, he hoped, though it could lead anywhere.

In any case, it was something better than a whole swarm of spiders chasing after them. He chuckled.

"I think that we're almost home free."

"I would like to see that."

"Well, come feast your eyes on the stairs ahead."

"Stairs. Now, that is a word that I like to hear. As long as they are going up."

"They are."

"Then they are more than welcome."

The Khajiit joined him, and the pair of them just enjoyed the view for a few minutes. It was quiet enough for them to relax, and for a moment, Arga almost felt the temptation to take his earlier offer with Dar'Zakar and expand on it there. There was time before they had to leave, time for them to enjoy each other's bodies.

Yet, with the door behind them shut, and no idea what awaited them in the room below, it was probably better to avoid that temptation. Who knew what would happen if they were caught with their armor off?

He shook his head with a small sigh of annoyance, taking the first step ahead. Dar'Zakar followed behind him, and they soon left the stone door behind. The altar seemed to be much the same as the embalming altars that he had seen on the way down, but the coffin beside it was a little more interesting. It was like some of the things that the Draugrs had popped out of, but this time, it looked more...condensed, more sealed than the others. Perhaps as a means of keeping something in, or of keeping graverobbers out.

With his magicka flowing freely through his system again, he felt like there was a chance for something here. Arga waved his companion over, and the two of them set to work, with him leveraging a dagger into the coffin, while Dar'Zakar worked to get it open from the other end. Eventually, it popped, but he almost got his head taken off for his trouble.

"Ugh...I should have guessed."

The pair of them backed up from it quickly, the Khajiit pulling out another Summoned Bow, while he was reaching for his sword. His other hand flared with fire, and he shook his head as he set himself to wait. He fought the urge to back away further; with the curved stone wall behind him, backing up too far would put him into a corner. Instead, he watched.

Unlike the other Draugr that they had run past, this one had more substance to him, for lack of a better phrase. It had more armor, more muscle on its otherwise wasted limbs...and one hell of a bigger weapon. Arga shook his head, setting himself in a more defensive position, his hand curling tight around the flame.

"How many shots are you going to need, Dar?"

"At least four."

"Is that with, or without me stabbing it in different places?"

"I assumed that you were going to sit this one out, again."

He rolled his eyes, and darted forward. The Draugr swung over his head, and he cut low, dragging his borrowed sword over the zombie's knees. It wasn't much, since they were armored as well, but it stopped the creature in its tracks and made it have to fight to regain its balance. It wobbled around, giving him time to smack it around the back, and then dart back just as he heard the snikt sound of a bowstring.

The first arrow planted itself in the Draugr's neck, just high enough to look painful. The next one went lower, near the spine, but not in it.

However, just as he was getting ready to start distracting it again, the undead turned its head and faced the Khajiit. Arga was about to stab it, but it leaned forward, opening its mouth.

"Fus RO!"

And to his shock, a blast of force rippled out of the undead's mouth, flying through the air until it slammed into the Khajiit on the high ground. Dar'Zakar went down, his bow thrown off to the side before it disappeared back to Oblivion. The Khajiit didn't get up, either.

Arga shook his head, hissing slightly under his breath as the undead turned back to him.

"Well...this isn't how I wanted this to go."

It rumbled something, whispering in its strange, dead language, but nothing came out that made sense. Arga pushed it from his head, pushing away the temptation to run away. If it could speak and send some sort of attack across the room, then distance wasn't his friend. He'd have to get close, and do this fast.

The Draugr's greatsword made that difficult, though. It swung it back and forth, several times almost catching him on the arm or in the neck. Each time, he barely managed to dodge back in time, and he was having to bob and weave in a dangerous dance to keep his head on his shoulders and his blood where it belonged.

Finally, he had an opening. He darted forward, swinging his sword up to block a weak swing, and shoved his free hand against the gap between the Draugr's chestplate and his lower armor.

"Burn."

His hand exploded with fire, shooting right into the creature's innards. The pressure on his sword went down almost immediately, and he shoved the Draugr down, keeping up the fiery onslaught until the blue light went out of those dead eyes. Even then, he waited for his magicka to return before shoving more flames down on the thing's head, burning half of it off before he was sure that it wasn't going to get up again.

When it was completely still, he reached down for the greatsword. One look at it told him that he didn't want to carry that thing around. While it had greater reach, it was old and dull, and he doubted that he could use something with that weight effectively. For that matter, the sheer versatility of using his magic in one hand and a weapon in another outweighed the use of a bigger blade. He threw it back to the ground.

He jogged up to the upper levels, and it didn't take long to find Dar'Zakar. The Khajiit had rolled over, rubbing his shoulder and holding it. Arga shook his head.

"Broken?"

"Not quite, but definitely injured."

"I don't have any potions on me, and I didn't see anything on the altar."

"I'll be alright. But I doubt I can shoot anything for a while."

"Come here."

He reached down, carefully lifting the feline to his feet. It wasn't ideal, but at least Dar'Zakar was still alive. It could have been a lot worse. A lot worse.

After guiding him down towards the grave and wall, he spotted something in the creature's coffin. Hoping that it might have been some valuable thing he had overlooked, Arga leaned over, glancing inside.

Instead of a potion or a weapon, it was some sort of carved rock. He shook his head, reaching inside and pulling it out, hoping that it would prove a little more valuable, or at least a little more useful, once he had a chance to get a good look at it.

What in the...

The Argonian couldn't read anything on it. It was some sort of script, but not something that he recognized. Old, too, much older than anything that he had seen in Telvanni books or in the slave quarters back in Morrowind, and much older than anything he had seen since coming to Skyrim. This was beyond his understanding.

Though... He turned slowly, holding it up as he looked at the wall of stone. The curved surface seemed to have a similar set of runes as the ones on the back of the rock. Maybe there was something that he could figure out if he compared them more directly. He walked closer, holding the stone in front of him and looking between it and the other runes.

He'd taken three steps towards the wall when the world seemed to go dark, dim in all places save for one of the words on the wall. Arga paused, staring at it, a strange shiver going down his spine as the light seemed to pull all the other illumination of the room to it, making everything else black.

What...what the...

The thought faded as he kept staring, feeling like something was pushing itself into his head. The rock in his hands was warm, heating up almost as he kept staring at the carving. It was getting brighter and brighter, and the tingle that it pushed through him was getting stronger and stronger.

Suddenly, it pulsed, and it was like a shock went down his spine. Arga fell to his knees, barely keeping his grip on the stone in his hands. That shock...

"Nnngh!"

"Arga?"

The Khajiit's whisper barely filtered through his ears, his entire attention focused on the fact that he was feeling everything. The leather against his scales was like a lover's caress, the cool air like ice on his body, the soft wind passing through like harsh sand rushing through the air, and the pressure down below...

"Nnngh!"

He groaned again, his cock swelling at rapid speed, almost like he hadn't had sex or even touched himself in a hundred years, two, three. His breath came in ragged pants, droplets of sweat popping out of his forehead as everything in him craved to submit to that need, that pleasure, that desperate release that his body craved.

Force...

The word echoed in his mind, and as he dragged his head back up, he realized that was what the lit runes said. Nothing else made sense before him, nothing else made any sense at all, but those runes...

Force.

He groaned, whispering it, and the heat receded, pushed back from him. His cock continued to throb in his leather armor, but the rest of the aches slowly receded. The sensitivity faded, and his eyes slowly cleared as the room went back to normal.

"Arga? Are you okay?"

The Khajiit's soft voice was just enough to pull him back to reality. He nodded, slowly pulling himself to his feet, and managed a slight smile.

"I'm...I'm alright."

"You fell."

"It was...I don't know. I'll explain later."

"If you are certain."

"I...think so."

"You know I won't be accepting that stone as a portion of the reward."

The sudden, completely inappropriate statement made him laugh, for some reason, and though the Khajiit didn't join him, Dar'Zakar did smile. He nodded, tucking the stone under his arm, and they made their way up the stairs.

Just as he'd hoped, it opened up onto the mountainside. Just like he'd feared, there was something waiting for them. And it was big.

It wasn't the one from Helgen, but the dragon that waited for them in the snow was a great beast, with wide wings and a strange scale-like mane that ran down its neck. It roared loud enough to make the air shake around them, nearly throwing him off-balance before it brought its head back down.

"Inside!"

He shoved Dar'Zakar back into the mountain, but that escape was already closed to him. The dragon had brought its head down, and the fire building in its throat was inescapable. Desperate, he did the only thing he could think of. He pulled the stone from the grave up, and held it in front of him.

The fire hit the stone, burning it almost immediately. The waves of heat flared out around his fingers, burning the tips and scalding the rest. Pressure from the fire pushed him backwards a few feet, almost back into the mountain, but it wasn't quite enough for that. He screamed back at it, holding the stone as tight as he could, knowing that if he dropped it that he would be burned to a crisp.

And then...

The stone shifted.

The heat stopped pouring off it so strongly, and the center of it began glowing with the same red heat as the fire. Not melting, but absorbing. He stared at it, his eyes widening as it glowed, and then -

That was altogether too long of a nap.

A voice, in his head. He groaned, trying to push it out, but it spoke again.

Now, why am I not flying? I thought that I would be...I had better be looking in a mirror. Because if I'm not, I am going to be most upset.

"I'm going mad. I am simply going crazy."

So there is someone holding me, and I'm staring at my body. Apparently getting knocked out of that and sealed in a tomb for the last few hundred years wasn't a nightmare.

"I'm going to die a crazy man."

You're not crazy. But I am. Crazily infuriated. That is MY body, and I am getting it back. Come on!

Without the slightest warning, the stone suddenly yanked him forward, and he was helpless to do anything but go along. It yanked him forward, then floated him up in the air a few feet to avoid a sudden blast of fire.

Oh, he's making me breath fire. Fire. I am an ICE dragon, thank you very much. And you're making my body breathe fire? This is too much.

Arga wanted to ask for an explanation, but he was barely holding on to begin with. With little recourse, he gave himself to the madness, and just held on for the ride.

The stone dropped him back down to the snow, and the dragon glared at them. It spoke in some strange language, words that meant nothing to him, but the stone apparently understood.

If you think you can keep my body, Alduin, just you try it. Try and make me into a fire dragon lackey for you, hmm? And what did you do to my MANE?!

Arga screamed as his arms were almost yanked out of his sockets as the stone dragged him straight towards the dragon. It swung itself upwards, smacking the dragon on the chin once, twice, three times, only for it to dart backwards to avoid a sudden bite. The Argonian wasn't so lucky; his boots were burned right off by the fire breath that came afterwards, leaving him shivering in the snow as the stone bobbed up and down in front of him.

Oh, that is it. That is just...okay, you want to fight? Then let's fight!

The stone yanked him forward again, dodging back and forth as the dragon kept trying to blast them with gouts of flame. Left and right, left and right, then up. Just as the dragon breathed fire, the stone slipped beneath him, a barrier between his bare feet and the fire, and it shot them straight up in the air like a rock over a geyser, only much, much hotter.

"Ow, ow, ow!"

He would have danced around the fire if he could, but all he could do was stand on the stone, feeling the heat searing through the rock. It was getting hotter and hotter by the second.

And then the fire stopped. And then they fell.

He screamed all the way down, right up until the point the rock hit the dragon in the head. It flashed with light, and he was thrown back, slamming into the side of the mountain and rolling down into the snow. The Argonian groaned, slowly pulling himself to his feet, fumbling for his sword -

"Owwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww."

That was not his voice, nor the voice of his companion. It was the one that was in his head...or...had been in his head.

He stared as the dragon looked up, no longer with angry eyes, but golden, warm eyes. Eyes that happened to be filled with tears, for that matter, and the dragon was rubbing its head, brushing the stone off of it slowly.

"Why did I do that to my own body? Ow. Ow. Owwwwww. That hurt."

Arga just stared. He was still...this had to be madness. This had to be what madness felt like.

"Nngh. Okay...well...I have my body back. Where - oh, there he is."

The dragon loped over to him, standing on all fours, looking down at him with its greater size. Arga didn't move. Why move, if he was just -

"Thinking you're crazy?"

"Uh-huh."

"You're not. This is just -"

Tink.

"Ow! Hey!"

The two of them turned, and there was Dar'Zakar, sitting back with his bow propped up with his boots, and pulling back on the string with another arrow. It went flying, and just plinked off of the dragon's nose. The dragon sighed.

"Could you ask him to stop? I have a lot of explanations to give, and - oooooh - not a lot of time to give them..."

Considering the fifth leg that was dropping from between the feral's hind legs, Arga imagined not.

The End