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He had earned the trust of a Jarl, fostered a deep, growing relationship with Ysolda, and had the infinite, cosmic power of the Eye of Magnus hidden securely in his possession, yet, the civil war still raged. Dragons continued to tear the sky apart. The Thalmor remained a looming, existential threat, and somewhere, far beyond the winding roads ahead, the next violent stage of his grand design was waiting in Solitude. The peaceful three days were officially over. It was time to return to the Solitude, and report exactly what he had learned.
The journey out of Whiterun began calmly, the group settling instantly into a familiar, rhythmic pace. They followed the winding cobblestone road northwest, leaving the sprawling tundra behind as the terrain slowly shifted toward the rocky, pine-covered foothills of Hjaalmarch.
Aerion rode at the head of the column on Revan, but his golden eyes occasionally flicked back, observing his retinue.
He noticed something he had already begun to suspect in the quiet moments between the crypts.
Eisa and Brelyna, sharing the same horse once again, had become noticeably closer. The distance between them was entirely gone. Their conversation was much quieter, more intimate than the boisterous banter of the other apprentices.
Brelyna leaned comfortably back against Eisa's steel breastplate as they rode, laughing softly at something the former bandit whispered. Eisa, who had initially been coiled tighter than a tripwire around the mages, looked entirely relaxed, her arms wrapped protectively around the Dark Elf to hold the reins.
Aerion noticed the subtle, lingering touches and the soft smiles without making a single scene out of it.
He was not oblivious. He recognized clearly that the trauma of Frostmere Crypt and the shared survival of their recent expeditions had forged a friendship that was now actively shifting into something vastly more personal.
His reaction was one of complete calm acceptance.
He of course had no objection, he coke from the modern world where some things like this happened, and as long as it didn't disturb his life then he doesn't truly care. Also, in the sprawling, diverse world of Tamriel, relationships between people of different backgrounds, races, or the same sex were simply not treated with the rigid, moralizing prejudice common in his old world. Aerion had studied enough Elder Scrolls lore to know that affection took many forms. The brutal, bloody history of the legendary Pelinal Whitestrake and his hoplite lover, Huna, was proof enough that love and war often intertwined.
It was a quiet, pleasant realization. He was genuinely happy that the two women had found comfort in one another amidst the chaos of his expeditions. He decided instantly that he would not interfere, nor would he offer unsolicited advice unless either of them explicitly asked for it.
The journey continued peacefully for several hours, the sun climbing high into the pale sky.
But halfway to Solitude, the quiet rhythm of the ride was violently shattered.
A chorus of sheer, terrified screams echoed from the valley ahead.
Aerion spurred Revan, cresting a rocky rise just in time to see absolute chaos unfolding on the road below.
A massive, bronze scaled dragon was attacking a large collection of wagons. Several farmer and merchant families had clearly combined their caravans for safety on the increasingly dangerous roads. There were civilians, panicking livestock, overturned supply carts, and desperately crying children scattering into the snow. A handful of poorly equipped caravan guards were firing iron arrows into the sky, their efforts entirely useless against the beast's thick hide.
The dragon banked sharply in the air, roaring deafeningly before diving, unleashing a massive torrent of fire that engulfed the lead wagon in an explosive fireball.
"Dismount!" Aerion roared, vaulting out of his saddle before Revan even came to a complete halt.
The group scrambled off their horses.
"Apprentices! Prepare your strongest, most reliable offensive spells!" Aerion commanded sharply, drawing his massive Ebony Bow.
This was it. J'zargo, Onmund, and Brelyna had fought bandits, vampires, and ancient Draugr warlords, but this was the first time they were facing a living, breathing dragon in open combat.
Their sheer, visceral nervousness was glaringly obvious. Onmund's hands were shaking as he summoned a fireball, and Brelyna looked pale, her dark eyes wide with terror.
Aerion did not shame them for it. He understood the primal fear dragons commanded.
"Listen to me!" Aerion yelled over the roar of the beast, locking eyes with them. "Stay together! Maintain your distance from its jaws! Watch your surroundings for falling debris, and attack only when I call for it! Do not waste your Magicka on wild shots!"
Jenassa stepped up beside him, her own Ebony Bow drawn taut, her red eyes locked onto the sky.
Lydia and Eisa drew their swords and raised their shields, preparing to anchor the frontline the moment the beast was forced to the ground.
The dragon did not make it easy. It fought like a highly intelligent, apex predator, not a stationary target.
It circled high above the valley, its massive wings casting a terrifying shadow over the burning wagons. It dove with blinding speed, snapping its jaws at a fleeing guard, before banking sharply to avoid a volley of spells. It landed briefly on a rocky outcropping, roaring a challenge that shook the trees, before launching itself back into the sky, forcing the group to constantly reposition and sprint for cover behind the overturned carts.
Aerion fought with lethal, cold precision. He tracked the dragon through the sky, drawing the Ebony Bow back to his cheek. He fired heavy, armor piercing ebony arrows with devastating accuracy, aiming for the softer membranes of the dragon's wings to cripple its flight.
When the dragon dove too close, Aerion seamlessly switched tactics, dropping the bow and casting concentrated Elemental Blasts. The spheres of superheated plasma detonated against the dragon's bronze scales, staggering the beast mid air. Jenassa matched his rhythm flawlessly, firing her own ebony arrows in perfectly timed volleys, exploiting the openings Aerion created.
The apprentices initially struggled with the sheer, terrifying scale of the target.
Their spells had been devastating against human sized targets, but tracking a massive, speeding dragon through the sky made them hesitate. They were afraid of missing and wasting their energy.
Aerion kept them focused with short, sharp, practical commands over the chaos.
"Wait," Aerion ordered as the dragon banked away.
"Track its descent!"
The dragon swooped low over the road.
"Now! Together!"
Onmund and J'zargo unleashed a synchronized barrage of fire and lightning, the spells slamming into the dragon's chest. The impact caused the beast to roar in pain, its flight pattern wobbling.
"Again!" Aerion shouted, firing another arrow into its wing joint.
Gradually, the sheer panic began to recede, replaced by adrenaline and focus. Onmund began timing his heavy fireballs perfectly with the dragon's dives. J'zargo grew visibly more aggressive, a feral grin spreading across his face as he realized his lightning actually caused the legendary beast to flinch. Brelyna remained highly focused but deeply nervous, stepping out from behind a burning wagon just long enough to cast a concentrated stream of frost before darting back into cover.
Finally, the dragon absorbed too much ranged punishment. Its right wing membrane was shredded by arrows and plasma.
With a furious, earth-shaking roar, the bronze dragon crashed into the dirt road right in the middle of the scattered wagons, kicking up a massive cloud of dust and snow.
"Everyone! Close in!" Aerion roared, dropping the bow and drawing his Ebony Greatsword from his back in one fluid motion.
The group surged forward.
Lydia and Jenassa flanked the beast, attacking from the sides to draw its attention. Aerion charged directly toward its massive, horned head, his greatsword humming with lethal intent.
Eisa remained slightly further back, positioning herself near Brelyna to protect the fragile mages.
The dragon thrashed violently. It snapped its jaws at Aerion, who deflected the massive teeth with the flat of his blade. Frustrated, the beast suddenly whipped its head around, its reptilian eyes locking onto Brelyna.
The dragon lunged, its massive jaws snapping open to crush the Dark Elf.
Eisa reacted without a single microsecond of hesitation.
The former bandit threw herself directly between the lunging dragon and Brelyna. She planted her boots in the dirt and raised her Elven shield with both hands, bracing for impact.
The dragon's snout slammed into the shield like a battering ram. The sheer kinetic force lifted Eisa completely off her feet, sending her flying backward. She crashed hard into the dirt, her armor sparking against the rocks, groaning in pain.
Brelyna screamed in horrified panic, dropping her offensive spell. She dropped to her knees beside Eisa, her hands glowing with frantic, desperate Restoration magic.
"Eisa! Eisa, look at me!" Brelyna yelled, pressing her glowing hands against the mercenary's bruised ribs.
It was a huge character moment. Eisa, a hardened criminal who had only recently abandoned her selfish bandit life, had just instinctively risked being bitten in half to protect the young scholar. Brelyna was visibly and deeply shaken by the sacrifice.
"I'm fine, Brel," Eisa coughed, wincing as the healing magic washed over her. She gripped her sword tightly. "Just a bruise. Keep your head down!"
Meanwhile, the frontline combat was brutal.
The dragon fought fiercely, using its massive weight to dominate the road. Its razor sharp claws gouged deep trenches in the earth. Its wings beat furiously, kicking up blinding clouds of dust. Its heavy, spiked tail swept across the road, forcing Lydia to block with her shield, the impact driving her to her knees.
Aerion was a blur of heavy steel. He danced around the snapping jaws, his Ebony Greatsword carving deep, bloody trenches into the dragon's thick neck scales. Lydia recovered, using her shield to bash the beast's snout, creating a momentary distraction, while Jenassa slipped under the dragon's wing, driving her twin daggers deep into its softer underbelly.
The apprentices, realizing the warriors was holding the line, unleashed a relentless barrage of Destruction magic from the rear. Brelyna, seeing Eisa was stabilized, stood up, her fear replaced by fierce, protective anger, and blasted the dragon's face with a continuous stream of freezing ice, blinding the beast.
Aerion saw the opening.
He didn't hesitate. He surged forward, stepping inside the dragon's guard. He brought the massive Ebony Greatsword up in a brutal, two handed upward swing, channeling every ounce of his immense physical strength.
The razor sharp volcanic glass cleanly severed the thick tendons and scales beneath the dragon's jaw, driving deep up into its skull.
The dragon let out a choked, gargling roar. Its massive body shuddered violently, and then, with the sound of a collapsing building, the beast crashed into the dirt, dead.
Absolute silence fell over the valley, save for the crackling of the burning wagons.
Slowly, the terrified survivors began to emerge from the brush and the ditches. Farmers clutching pitchforks, merchants holding their children, and bleeding caravan guards stumbled toward the group, their faces pale with shock.
They realized they had been saved.
A woman fell to her knees in the dirt, sobbing loudly, thanking the Divines. A merchant gripped Onmund's hand, shaking it furiously, tears streaming down his face.
A small Nord boy, clutching a wooden toy sword, stepped nervously toward Aerion. The towering High Elf, entirely covered in heavy armor and wearing the terrifying, jagged bronze mask of Krosis, looked like a demon straight out of a nightmare.
"Are... are you the Dragonborn?" the boy asked, his voice trembling.
Aerion knelt down, the heavy plates of his armor clanking softly. He reached up and gently removed the mask, revealing his flawless, pale golden skin and aristocratic Altmer features. He shook his head gently.
"No, little one," Aerion replied softly. "I am just a mer with a sword."
The revelation that their savior was a High Elf caused a visible ripple of shock among several of the older farmers. But before prejudice could set in, one of the wounded caravan guards pointed a shaking finger at him.
"I know him!" the guard shouted hoarsely, his eyes wide. "That's the Thane of Whiterun! The companion of the Dragonborn! I saw him in the city!"
The mood instantly shifted from shock to absolute reverence. The survivors began cheering weakly, clustering around the group, offering profound, tearful thanks to the Thane and his warriors.
Aerion raised his hands, immediately calming the crowd.
"There is no need to thank us," Aerion said firmly, his voice carrying clearly over the wind. "Stopping a beast like this is the duty of any capable fighter. We are just glad we arrived in time."
He seamlessly shifted the focus away from himself and onto practical matters.
"Who among you is wounded?" Aerion commanded, looking at the caravan master. "Gather them near the intact wagons. Brelyna, Onmund, begin healing with Restoration magic. Lydia, Eisa, help the survivors identify the dead. Let us treat them with the respect they deserve."
The chapter slowed down, the adrenaline of the battle replaced by the grim reality of survival.
Aerion and his companions spent the next hour helping the farmers and merchants recover the bodies of the guards and civilians who had perished in the initial fire. They didn't treat the dead like battlefield loot, they handled them with profound respect, carefully wrapping the bodies in clean cloth and placing them gently onto the surviving wagons so the families could take them home for a proper burial.
Afterward, the survivors thanked Aerion and his group one final time, their gratitude deep and genuine, before organizing their remaining horses and continuing their slow, mournful journey toward Whiterun.
Once the caravan was out of sight, Aerion finally turned his attention back to the massive corpse of the dragon.
As before, he knew he could not simply absorb thousands of pounds of dragon bones and scales into his inventory without violently exceeding what he was willing to carry openly, or exposing the impossible nature of his storage.
He decided to leave the remains exactly where they fell. He opened his map interface and dropped a precise marker on the location. He intended to return later with Sinmir, the mercenaries, and several heavy wagons to properly transport the priceless crafting materials back to Tundra Homestead.
He turned to leave, but before he could take a single step, an unexpected, glowing notification materialized in the absolute center of his vision.
The dragon's soul was still lingering.
Normally, when a dragon was slain, Aeloria, the true Dragonborn, absorbed the soul immediately, tearing it from the corpse in a maelstrom of fire and light. The dragons Aerion had fought alongside her had never left him anything but physical bones.
But Aeloria was not here.
[The Dragon Soul Detected Lingered Around.]
[Would you like to absorb and process this soul into a permanent ability? Note: This is a onectime function.]
[YES / NO]
Aerion stopped dead, his golden eyes widening slightly in genuine surprise.
He wanted to know exactly what the System could do when pushed to its limits. He didn't hesitate.
He mentally selected YES.
There was no dramatic, visible explosion of power. No swirling vortex of fire or glowing ethereal energy that the apprentices could see. The world around them remained perfectly unchanged.
The lingering soul simply, silently vanished into Aerion's core.
A new notification flashed.
[Dragon Soul successfully processed.]
[Dragon Soul permanently bound to host.]
[NEW SKILL ACQUIRED: SUMMON DRAGON — MAX LEVEL]
[Description: Congratulations, you now own a lizard with a god complex. This ability allows the host to summon the soul of the slain dragon as a physical fully manifested entity in the real world. The summoned dragon retains its original personality, its independent mind, and all memories of its existence. It can speak, strategize, and interact with the world. However, its allegiance to the host is now hard coded at 100%. It physically cannot betray you, lie to you, or turn against you. Note: This is not a mindless magical puppet or a fragile Daedric illusion. It is a true, manifested spirit dragon.]
Aerion stood perfectly still, utterly stunned.
He had absolutely never expected this. His Animal Affinity and his Dragon Master ability were fundamentally incapable of controlling ordinary, living dragons in Skyrim. He had long assumed that the dragons themselves would remain one of the very few major limitations on his rapidly growing power.
Now, he possessed something entirely different.
He did not control the living dragons of Skyrim.
He owned one.
The distinction was staggering. Aerion's mind immediately began racing with the terrifying, world altering tactical possibilities. A dragon could scout entire holds in minutes. A dragon could carry messages across the province. A dragon could annihilate fortifications, terrify entire standing armies into submission, and provide unparalleled aerial reconnaissance. And unlike a fragile summoned atronach, this was a true, highly intelligent dragon, permanently bound to his will.
It would dramatically, exponentially strengthen his developing power base.
But Aerion instantly recognized the immense, lethal danger of the ability. If anyone, the Thalmor, the Empire, the Greybeards, or the Jarls, saw him casually summoning a dragon that obeyed his verbal commands, questions would spread like wildfire. He would instantly become the most feared, heavily targeted man in Tamriel.
He made a hard, immediate decision. The ability had to remain an absolute, guarded secret.
He would not test the summon here. He would wait until he was somewhere entirely private and secure.
Aerion looked once more at the dragon's massive bones. He reinforced the marker on his map interface, making a firm mental note to send Sinmir out as soon as possible. He only hoped no opportunistic bandits discovered the remains before the mercenaries arrived.
With everything settled, Aerion signaled for the group to remount.
As they climbed back into their saddles, Eisa and Brelyna shared another quiet, intensely personal moment. Eisa adjusted Brelyna's stirrup, asking softly if she was alright, while Brelyna rested a hand on the mercenary's arm, checking her healed ribs. It subtly reinforced their growing bond without pulling focus from the road ahead.
The apprentices were also visibly different as they rode.
They were still shaken, their hands trembling slightly against the reins, but the academic fragility was gone. They were no longer simply scholars who had read dusty books about dragons. They had stood their ground and fought one.
"You fought well," Aerion encouraged them, his voice calm and reassuring. "Being afraid of a beast that large is natural. It is not the same as being incapable. What matters is that when the fear appeared, you still cast your spells."
The group resumed their journey, the horses moving steadily down the road toward Solitude.
The evening gradually approached, the sky bruising into deep shades of purple and orange. Finally, the massive, imposing stone archway and the towering windmill of Solitude became visible in the distance, perched precariously on its massive stone arch over the Karth River.
They reached the Solitude stables just as twilight settled over the city.
They dismounted, handing their exhausted horses over to the hostler.
Aerion paused before heading up the stone ramp toward the main gates. He looked back once, out over the darkening road they had just traveled, knowing that the dragon's remains were marked for retrieval, and that an impossible, completely unexpected power had just been quietly added to his growing arsenal.
Then, he turned and led Lydia, Jenassa, Eisa, J'zargo, Onmund, and Brelyna up into the capital of the Empire. His Imperial mission was finally complete. But as he walked through the heavy gates of Solitude, Aerion carried a new secret burning quietly in his mind. He could summon a dragon. And for the very first time since arriving in this world, he began to seriously wonder whether the absolute limits of his power were disappearing faster than he could even understand them.
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[Main Panel]
Name: Aerion
Race: High Elf (Altmer)
Health: 860/860
Stamina: 900/900
Magicka: 980/980 [External Capacity & Regeneration: ∞]
Level: 231
Skills: Animal Affinity (MAX LEVEL), Fast Skill Levelling (MAX LEVEL), Fast Magic Mastery (MAX LEVEL), Instant Shout (MAX LEVEL), Dragon Master (MAX LEVEL), Eye Of Magnus (MAX LEVEL), Summon Dragon (MAX LEVEL) - NEW, Destruction (Fire(+5)/Lightning(+2)/Frost(+2)) (Level 0/91/70), Restoration (Healing(+2)/Purify(+2)) (Level 50/98), Alteration (Level 35), Illusion (Level 50), Conjuration (Necromancy/Summoning(+1)) (Level 37/90), Persuasion(+2) (Level 83), Smithing (Level 57), Sneak(+1) (Level 64), One Handed(+2) (Level 0), Two Handed(+1) (Level 29), Lockpicking (Level 55), Archery(+1) (Level 0), Enchanting(+1) (Level 23), Light Armor(+2) (Level 10), Block (Level 70), Pickpocket (Level 8), & Heavy Armor (Level 59)
Shouts: Fus Roh Dah (Force Balance Push), Tiid (Time), Krii (Kill), Feim Zii Gron (Fade Spirit Bind), Su (Air), Laas (Life), Yol Toor (Fire Inferno), Kaan (Kyne), Zul Mey Gut (Voice Fool Far), & IIZ (Ice)
[Inventory Panel]
1x Small Sack, Poacher's Axe, the Golden Claw, Arvel's Journal, Inkwell & Quill, Thief Book, Parchment Rolls Of Mammoths Farm And Loan, Ebony Claw, The Mirror, Ring of Pure Mixtures, Grand Soul Gem (Filled), Deed to Tundra Homestead, Dawnbreaker, Traveling Backpack (Supplies), Vampire Armor, Vampire Boots, Movarth's Golden Ash (Unique), Potion of Healing, Wuuthrad's Fragments, Mage Boots Of Weight, Master Robes Of Destruction, Staff of Jyrik Gauldurson, & Gauldur Black Bow
2x Common Soul Gem (Empty), Black Soul Gem (Empty), & Potions of Plentiful Magicka
3x Potions of Minor Stamina, Petty Soul Gem (Filled), Potions of Minor Magicka, Grand Soul Gem (Filled), & Greater Soul Gems
5x Mod Chests
8x Iron Arrows, Ancient Nord Arrows, & Common Soul Gem (Filled)
9x Potions Of Minor Healing
10x Lesser Soul Gems
12x Black Soul Gem (Filled)
Weight: 47.71 KG / 750 KG
Septims: 102,867