Skyrim: Rise of the Dragonborn

Chapter 20: Dragonborn

After a while, a dozen more guards came with healing potions and portable beds to help carry the wounded back to the city. Unfortunately, several had died from their wounds already, but there were seven left that were still hanging on. One had been severely burned all over his body, one was missing an arm, another had bashed his head and wasn't talking, one would have to live with half of a face disfigured from burns, one had been bitten across his torso and thrown, one had a chunk taken out of his side from the dragon's claws, and the last one had burns, deep scars, and bruises all over him. The seventh had fought till the dragon stopped breathing. He collapsed as he approached one of his fallen comrades and had not regained consciousness, but he was still breathing.

Several guards started to load the wounded on the portable beds as the rest continued to bury the dead. Beric was surprised to see that Irileth was able to name them all. At first, he thought she was just one of the many who had a gifted memory, but the tears she fought back showed a different story. Beric removed his helmet after all the guards did the same. After a moment of silence, Irileth took a deep breath and walked toward the wounded.

"Come on, I want the wounded in the city and indoors before the townsfolk are up and about," she said as all the guards followed her and lifted the beds on which the wounded rested. Beric took a deep breath as he finished taking in the sight of the helmets resting at the head of each grave. He would no doubt be welcomed as a hero for delivering the killing blow. But the sight of the graves killed the desire for praise. It was a glorious battle, but the loss made it undesirable to recount. Beric placed his helmet back on his head as he rejoined the group, who had already begun their trek back to Whiterun.

As they approached the gate, the guards quickly opened the gates and made way for them. They made their way to the barracks and put their wounded on their normal beds. There were two priestess' who started tending to the wounded and thanking the ones who had carried them.

"Countryman," said one of the guards as he put a hand on Beric's shoulder.

"Yes?" Beric said facing him.

"Irileth is outside. She asked for you,"

"Me?" Beric raised an eyebrow.

"Don't flatter yourself," the guard slapped him on the arm jokingly, "She typically only calls if she needs you to do something," Beric smiled pleasantly and nodded as he headed for the door. He opened the door to see a few guards talking amongst themselves. When they saw him, they went silent and stared at him. He closed the door behind him and took a few steps forward. As he looked around, he saw no sign of the Dark Elf.

"Irileth?" Beric asked the soldiers as he looked around.

"Up here," came her voice from behind him. He looked up to see her on the wall talking to three other guards. She motioned for him to come up. He started to make his way to the cobblestone staircase as he started to feel his headache pierce his forehead. He took his helmet off as he held his head. He felt the skin tingle as he felt a slight burn on his face. He needed to rest up soon, but there was no telling when that would be possible. He looked up to see her nod the guards off as he topped the stairs. She took a deep breath as she looked up to the towering mountain that blocked the sun from view. Beric looked up to see the stars beginning to fade as the sky changed its color from black to orange.

"Well, my guards seem to think you're here to lead Skyrim into another golden age," she raised her eyebrow in slight irritation.

"I'm sorry to say they'll be disappointed," Beric sighed, "I'm nothing special,"

"No one really is, boy," she shrugged, "I'm not really sure what exactly you are, but, regardless, you dealt the killing blow to a dragon that threatened our city. The Jarl will want to speak with you personally," she said nodding up to Dragonsreach. Beric couldn't help but feel a little excited at the potential recognition, but Irileth's mood seemed focused on the loss. He decided that it would be best to shift the Jarl's attention to that of the fallen and the wounded. It was them that lost the most, after all. Had it not been for the strength of numbers, Beric would probably have been one of the first to die.