Origins
Tirdas, the 18th of Last Seed, 4E 201
The midday sun blazing behind him, the dragon rose in the air, fireballs flicking off his tongue like the arrows Asling was shooting through his wings, circling above her like a giant, scaly vulture.
This was not the first dragon she had seen, but unfortunately for her, Asling could not flee from this one as she had in Helgen. There was nowhere to hide save for that miserable looking tower, and given the guards didn't fare too well with that approach, she had chose instead to buy herself time by fighting off the beast long enough that reinforcements would arrive.
If there was anyone left to send.
Asling reached around for another arrow, her hand grasping at air above her empty quiver.
Alright, new plan. She rolled out of the way as the dragon breathed more fire, the flames scorching the grass and licking at her boots. Tucking the bow out of the way, she frantically searched for something, anything she could use as a weapon to defend herself.
Spying the charred remains of one of the guards, his body twisted at an unnatural angle, Asling threw herself beside the body, carefully rolling him over to free his sword. Shame all his arrows were broken; if she could just cripple the beast, she might be able to make her escape.
Maybe she should just make a run for it anyways... but her spirits fell when she reexamined the area; nothing but open fields and gently rolling hills, up until the sudden slope of the mountain that loomed behind the tower.
No close cover... and no chance she could make that distance without being caught. Thieves were not supposed to be out in the open – in broad daylight no less – and with her only in thin leather armor, she was at a severe disadvantage. Might as well set herself on fire and save the dragon the trouble.
She bolted around the tower and dove behind the nearest cover she could find as the dragon looped back around, her fingers gripped tightly to the dented sword she had plucked off of the fallen guard, as there was no way her daggers could help her now.
{“Where are you going, little elf?”} a loud booming voice called out to her, and she froze, shivering behind a crumbling wall of stone, her eyes wild in fear as her heart pounded hollowly against her ribcage.
Was that the dragon that spoke?
Doubtful... but who else was there to speak to her?
Asling let out a shaky breath, carefully lifting her head to peek around the wall, spying the dragon coming back around for a second assault, his eyes focusing directly on the slight movement behind the stone wall before she had the chance to hide again. Cursing loudly, she reevaluated her position and decided to hell with it. She was either going to die burned to a crisp cowering behind a wall, or she could die out in the open burned to a crisp; decidedly better to die with a bit of dignity she supposed.
Certainly was not how she expected to go.
Sword held in an unsteady grip, she looked up at the incoming dragon, pulling the bravest face she could muster given she was shaking in her boots, letting out a shrill shriek as an arrow whizzed by her and breaking what little concentration she had.
The cavalry had arrived at last; heavily armored guards from Whiterun came charging over the hill, and Asling debated once more on if she should bolt or not. Then again, she might be able to get away with looting the bodies if she survived this –
A roar from the dragon ripped her from her thoughts; the beast spiraling towards the ground, one wing torn to shreds by the guard's arrows.
He landed with a hard thud, the earth beneath her shaking from the impact, and Asling drew herself up again as the dragon reared his head, looking directly at her with his fiery gaze. Much to her displeasure, his scaly face drew back in a terrifying sneer, all teeth as he closed in on her, swatting away the incoming guards like they were toys.
Asling took a step back, shivering uncontrollably but raised the sword higher nonetheless; terrified or not, she would not just lay down and die.
{“Fight me!”} The words rumbled from the dragon's throat as he lunched forward to snap at her, and Asling swiftly darted to the side, bring the blade back up. All her other options exhausted and with this beast unwilling to leave her be, Asling charged forward, tumbling headfirst over those great outstretched claws and weaved around to the side the dragon's great head.
“If you want a fight, then fine, you got it!” she screamed, drawing back and plunging the sword into the dragon's eye, ducking down to narrowly avoid those thick claws, then scrambling beneath the beast to regain her footing and finish the assault.
There was little left to do but finish this.
She lept upon the beast and clamped her legs around his neck, struggling to hold on as the beast thrashed beneath her in attempt to throw her off.
The other guards closed in, raining blows down on the beast's sides, but Asling paid them no mind, the distraction giving her enough opportunity to draw her dagger, raising the blade high and slamming it down with all her might into the dragon's skull.
There was a dull SHUNK as the blade slid in a slow shuddering motion, deeper into the dragon's hide and drawing a bone chilling howl from the beast. Asling held onto the dagger for dear life as the dragon flailed around, gradually sinking to the ground.
{“Dovahkiin...”} The dragon spoke in a final raspy breath, then lay still. Asling exhaled, sliding off of the dragon’s head and plopped down on her backside in the dirt, her muscles sore and wiry from the battle. She looked up to see the guards closing in to examine the dead dragon, freezing and staring at her in awe.
“Umm... hello...” she panted, her brow furrowed at the way they were staring at her, until she realized their gaze was looking past her to the dragon.
Asling looked up and let out a frightened yelp, trying to jump to her feet then tripping falling back to the ground again, scooting across the ground on her backside in attempt to get away from whatever was happening to the dragon's corpse.
A brilliant spiraling light, the strands twisting through the air then plunging down into her body as she sat upon the ground, overrun by the sensation. She couldn't describe it; a brief presence, a strange warmth and a flash of insight of what just happened.
That was the dragon's soul. And she just absorbed it. Sitting upon the ground beside the dragon’s now bare skeleton, stunned, her head turned to the guards.
Okay, now they were staring at her.
“I-I don't believe it... you-you're Dragonborn...” one of the guards muttered, and Asling's face scrunched up, looking almost insulted.
“What?”