Lucian tightened the straps of his pack, ensuring that everything was secure. To be fair, he could've just used his inventory, but to avoid detection as the dragonlord, he had to at least look the part of an average warrior. His cloak flapped gently in the morning breeze, and the air carried a crisp chill as dawn illuminated Dragonhold. Saphira ran around beside him, her half-spread wings were flapping in anticipation of the journey ahead.
Eldrath, stood nearby, his massive frame casting a long shadow over the rocky outcrop. The elder dragon's silver scales shimmered as he crouched low, allowing Lucian to climb onto his back.
"This will be your first real taste of the world outside Dragonhold," Eldrath rumbled as Lucian settled in. "Watch carefully. Skyrim is as vast as it is treacherous."
With a powerful leap, Eldrath launched himself into the air. The wind roared in Lucian's ears, and he clung tightly to the dragon's scales as they climbed higher and higher, dragonhold slightly disappearing from view.
As they soared over Skyrim, Eldrath began pointing out landmarks.
"To the west lies Markarth, the city of stone. Its people are as stubborn as the rocks they carve their homes from. They remain neutral—for now." His tone seemed to carried a hint of disdain.
Lucian craned his neck to catch a glimpse of the city. Even from this height, he could see the glint of sunlight reflecting off its Dwemer-built walls.
"And to the north," Eldrath continued, banking slightly to give Lucian a better view, "is Whiterun, the trade hub of Skyrim. The Jarl there is cautious, but his allegiance could shift at any moment. Keep your wits about you if you ever pass through."
Lucian nodded, committing the information to memory. He could sense the underlying tension in Eldrath's voice, showing his distaste for the humans, well, non-dragons, of Skyrim.
Their flight continued in silence for a while, the vast expanse of Skyrim unfolding beneath them. Snow-capped mountains loomed on the horizon, and the air grew colder as they approached the northern regions.Finally, Eldrath began his descent, his massive wings beating steadily as he guided them toward a rocky clearing near the edge of Dragonhold's boundaries.
"This is as far as I go," he said, landing with a resounding thud. "Beyond this point, you are on your own."
Lucian slid off the dragon's back, his boots crunching against the frost-covered ground. Saphira leapt down and flitted around excitedly, exploring their surroundings.
"Remember what the king told you," Eldrath said, his gaze piercing. "Trust no one. Speak of your true identity to no one. And most importantly, do not underestimate the dangers of this world."
Lucian met the dragon's eyes and nodded. "Yeah, I will."
Eldrath hesitated for a moment before lowering his head. "You have the potential to be a great dragonlord, boy. Prove to us that the king's faith in you is not misplaced."
With that, Eldrath spread his wings and took off, disappearing into the sky with a deafening roar.
Lucian watched him go, feeling a new sense of determination. Turning to Saphira, he gave her a small smile. "Well, it's just us now.
The baby dragon chirped in response.
The path to Winterhold was long and unforgiving. Saphira stayed close, occasionally darting ahead to scout the trail before returning to his side. Watching her run around help to kill a little of the boredom. The rocky trails wound through dense forests and treacherous mountain passes and occasionally, they would have to stop to make camp when a snow storm picked up.
On the third day of travel, they encountered their first real challenge, although it could hardly count as any challenge. As they made their way through a narrow gorge, the sound of rushing water echoed off the walls. Lucian paused, his instincts prickling with unease.
Saphira let out a low growl, her little claws digging into the ground as she crouched defensively."Easy, girl," Lucian whispered, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.
From the shadows, a group of bandits emerged, their weapons gleaming in the dim light.
"Well, well," their leader sneered, a burly Nord with a scar running down his cheek. "What do we have here? A lone traveler and his little pet? You've wandered into the wrong place, elf."
Lucian's sneered. They did not even look the part of experienced bandits, just some armed misfits. "I don't want any trouble. Let me pass, and we can avoid this turning into something you'll regret."
The bandits laughed, the sound echoing ominously.
"Bold words," their leader said, stepping closer. "But you don't look like much of a fighter. Drop your pack and your weapon, and maybe we'll let you walk away with all your limbs."
Sighing, he placed his right arm behind him, he knew there was no reasoning with them. Drawing his blade, he positioned himself defensively. "I won't ask again. Let me pass.
"The leader's grin widened, and he raised his axe. "Your funeral."
The fight was swift, he didn't get any quest notification, so he was too bored to even take it serious.
In the end, the bandits lay defeated, their leader groaning on the ground with a deep gash across his arm. Lucian towered over him, his eyes filled with mockery.
"Get out of here," he said. "You bore me."
* * *
By the time they reached the outskirts of Winterhold, the snow was falling heavily, and the air was bitterly cold. The town itself was a shadow of its former glory, its once-proud buildings were just a little more than ruins. He paused to take it all in, his breath visible in the frigid air.At the other edge of the town, the College of Winterhold loomed like a beacon, only, it was bigger than he expected. It was definitely not suppose to be as big as this.