Chapter Text
Even though several years had passed since the Dragonborn's defeat of Alduin, his powerful magic lingered and tainted the land still. Each burial ground was disturbed and raised at the moment of Alduin's demise, dragons to soar the skies with no master, befalling tragedy upon the land in which they inhabited, spreading their rage at losing their leader, then fighting their battles to see who reigned supreme. And so, the Dragonborn quested once more across the land, slaughtering each beast as she… Well, as I am the she telling the story, I came upon it, for none of the great Dragons showed mercy for any other beast, man, or mer. All dragons except one, and let me tell you of this beast.
The day was Tirdas, and it started out like any other regular Tirdas. I was traveling from Riften to Darkwater crossing, delivering a care package to my old friend Derkeethus. It was his birthday last Morndas, and I was intent on seeing the spry Argonian before he kicked the bucket. Of course, I tell him this every year. Adjusting the straps of my pack, I pause for a moment in the lush greens and yellows of the Rift. This place always gave me echoes of remembrance, like I had come to see these once before, in another life. Inhale the deep smell of rotting leaves, green plants, lushness.....brimstone? I tense up immediately, hand flying to the hilt of my ebony sword.
I sniff again, deeper this time and while turning, and the smell is stronger from the west. The smell is rather unmistakable too, and I draw my sword as a precaution. Where one smelt brimstone, one often finds a fire dragon. I advanced upon the berm of earth to the west, stealing my way through the underbrush as silent as I could manage, which wasn't very. I deposited my bag in a convenient little knoll between a rock and a tree; no use in having it get in the way during a battle.
I untied a small pack from the side of it, tying it onto my own waist; my potion bag. I was no master alchemist, but I knew my way around the three categories most used. Health, stamina, and magicka. Once outfitted, I readied a shock spell in my left hand, then I advanced upon the direction of the smell of brimstone, noting that it smelled fresh. The dragon was nearby very recently, and I was on high alert. I continued further into the wood, the trees growing closer and closer together, until there was barely enough space for me to squeak by in my Dragonscale armor. However light it was, Gods, I wish I could get away with just simple regular hide armor still. Less bulky. I skirted around a particularly dense clump of birch trees when I came upon a sudden, previously unseen clearing.
I stumbled into the open, clumsily waving my arms to gain balance. Unfortunately, that also created quite a bit of noise, and suddenly the smell of brimstone was a hell of a lot stronger than it was three seconds ago. I blanched. Uh oh. I looked up, and was met (nearly) face to face with a dragon. It was smaller and darker than normal, I immediately noted, and it....wasn't attacking me. Just...watching.
We must have stood there, staring at each other, for hours. At least, that's what it felt like to my aching limbs, holding my sword and magic hand pointed at the beast, awaiting. The only sound was our breathing, the dragons much louder than mine, and birdsong. That was odd; birds usually avoided dragons' lairs…
"Drem yol lok." (Peace fire sky.) The dragon started after the long, tense silence. It took me a second to process this, then I confusedly returned the peaceful greeting. There was silence once more. Observing the great beast up close was unnerving at best; the closest I had gotten to another dragon on peaceful terms was Paarthurnax, and that was no closer than twenty feet. In this small clearing in the dense wood, we were less than five feet apart.
If not for the dragon's obviously diminished size, I am sure it would have been able to bite me in half from there. And yet it did not. Its body language was alien, in the way that none of it spoke aggression. It just sat there, coiled in a grassy depression in the ground, staring expectantly at me, as if waiting. I lowered my hands, then sheathed my weapon. The dragon soul inside of me, the one made of me, not the ones I absorbed, trusted in this particular dragon, and I trusted my instincts. Its eyes showed approval when I sheathed my weapon, and it nodded its head.
"Zu'u lost saraan lingrah fah hi, Dovahkiin." (I have waited long for you, Dovahkiin.) It spoke once more, in an ambiguous voice giving no gender, shifting its wings upon itself. It settled itself better into its knoll. In all observations, to me, it looked like a tired elderly dog, laying down for sleep.
"Saraan fah zu'u fah....?" (Waited for me for...?) I queried, after a moment to recall the correct words in Dovahzul, sitting myself down on a large rock beside me at the edge of the small clearing. This dragon was clearly not going to attack, and even if it were to, I had more than enough faith in my magickal skill to shield myself. This all felt like a dream, anyhow; maybe Derkeethus slipped me mushrooms in my tea and I'm hallucinating, again.
"Hi lost bo wah ofan zu'u fin lingrah vul." (You have come to give me the long dark.) It began, "Zu'u bo ahst drem." (I go in peace.) Its words shocked me into silence for a few moments. Yeah, I'm definitely hallucinating, because no dragon would bow its proud head to die with no fight. "Zu'u lost sizaan hi?" (I have lost you?) There was a joking tone to its voice for a moment.
I stammered out a reply, this time in common Tamrielic, "I'm just confused, why a dragon would go so willingly to death."
"Zu'u.... I betray?" It's Tamrielic sounded rusty. "Betray Alduin. Would rather....Bahlaan.... worthy death." It seemed it could find no Draconic equivalent for its words. I nodded in understanding.
"Why seek death, then, instead of joining sides?" I probed a bit, which received me a flat, deadpan look from the dragon, who then looked down at itself pointedly, then back at me. Then back at itself, then back at me. "Zu'u los sahlo. Mal." (I am weak. Small.) "Aan zun voth ni kod." (A weapon with no use.)
"You don't necessarily need to have a use, dov." I said, then smiled a bit, "I have already defeated Alduin." The voice coming from me was not quite my own; my inner dragon boasted for me. Often their ugly pride would rear its head and I would have to quell it down; for now, I let it show, for it just showed I was the dominant Dov in this conversation. Not even speaking of the fact that the dragon had greeted me first.
It seems it was my turn to shock the dragon into silence, for it was quiet in the clearing, save for a single cardinal winging through the clearing. It turned its head away to gaze off into the forest, its eyes ancient and tired. "Zu'u los… Aazdremfrul." (I am mercy-peace-ephemeral.) "Zu'u lost mal kod, nuz zu'u los ahst hin ahmik." (I have little use, but I am at your service.)
It was an hour later I found myself sitting at my newly set up campsite, accompanied by nothing other than a dragon. Aazdremfrul had plowed its- sorry, his, he finally informed me- way through the underbrush and small saplings, carving the clearing much wider. It was an odd telling; apparently, Aazdremfrul had switched sides with Paarthurnax, but was felled in battle early on. He did not know why he had resurrected along with the others, given his status to the World-eater, but he all but assumed that since he was alive, hope was lost. And so he sat in his clearing, waiting for death.
His scales were dull and lifeless, dead leaves and sticks occasionally poking themselves out of a joint between spikes or a crevasse between scales. Underneath the grime, his skin sunk between his bones, and he appeared emaciated. And so, this is why I was currently roasting a goat leg over the fire and Aazdremfrul was massacring the rest of the carcass. I honestly should feel more threatened by a dragon viciously inhaling a creature less than fifteen feet from me, but Gods above, something within me- probably my dragon soul- didn't give a hoot. That same something within felt at peace with the beast, and a strange sort of emotion came over me, like finally meeting a long lost part of the family you’ve heard of your entire life.
I took him home.