[Chapter Size: 2100 Words.]
Third Person POV.
Sowhere on North.
...
...
The dragon continued flying south, and Jon noticed that she wouldn't last much longer, with her wingbeats growing weaker, and her altitude beginning to drop.
"We're far enough to be attacked here... We should descend to rest..." Jon spoke in the old tongue as the dragon continued to emit tired and painful sounds, starting to lower.
She began to fall, passing over a hill and heading toward the dry forest below.
"You can't land?!" Jon was surprised by the dragon's freefall, unable to do anything but hold on tight as the dragon seed to give up.
The next mont, impact ca as the dragon hit the ground hard, lifting all the snow while her body dug into the earth with her enormous mass.
Jon gritted his teeth as he felt the impact, holding on tightly to avoid falling, hearing the dragon groaning in front of him. She continued making her way forward, knocking down trees and displacing any rocks in her path, while leaving a trench behind them.
She finally stopped, while everything around them turned into a haze of dust. Jon held firm until the dragon ca to a halt, and he let out a sigh, still hearing the pained groan after the path of destruction the creature had caused with her massive body.
"It's over, girl, but we're not out of danger. We need to get you out of here soon..." Jon assessed, looking at the scene. They were only about 30 kiloters from that place if he had to guess... And the undead wouldn't stop pursuing them so easily, and as soon as they saw that the dragon had fallen, they would consider her easy prey.
Jon couldn't imagine what an undead dragon could do. He had faced so already, and even without him present, Skyrim had ans to defend against them, while the rest of the people in this world would probably be annihilated by sothing like that if he weren't there as well.
He quickly jumped off the dragon, waiting for the dust to settle. He saw that the animal was covered in wounds and kept her head low. Jon walked up to her, seeing the pained look the creature gave, letting out small whimpers. Her breathing was also quite irregular.
He touched her head, trying to calm her. "We'll get you out of here, girl. Just wait a mont," he said, never imagining he would treat a dragon this way, but this was his current reality.
Jon quickly stepped away and began to invoke so conjuration spells, casting them ahead of him. A wooden creature with green light radiating throughout its body appeared before him. It was a spriggan, a summon he had developed outside the conjuration school after reaching a master level to create new contracts with creatures directly from Oblivion.
The creature stepped on the ground with its branch-like legs, looking at the dragon. "Heal her." Jon issued the order, pointing at the dragon. The spriggan began touching the animal, glowing a green hue.
Jon was relieved to see the wounds starting to heal, but he frowned a mont later.
"This will take too long," he murmured, quickly summoning more spriggans until he reached six, the maximum he could conjure at once with this contract.
The healing was working, but he realized that even with the six spriggans around, it would probably take two days for the dragon to be fully healed.
With no other choice, Jon decided to stay there. Although they were only a few kiloters away from the undead-infested land, they still had a few hours before they were found if the creatures were still pursuing them.
The dragon remained crouched, without strength, as her body slowly eased from the pain but was still unable to move. Her entire muscles were exhausted, and her wings obviously could no longer lift.
Jon ended up staying beside her, studying her better at that mont. "You're not a dovah dragon nor a Valyrian dragon... How did you co to be here?" he murmured, having a hunch that this dragon had so connection to Valyria.
The only response he received was a look, as the dragon could not speak. Jon let it go and decided to start releasing several spectral wolves, which ran toward the forest to watch the northern area.
The situation was complicated. They remained there while the spriggans continued healing the dragon. The day passed as night approached, and Jon did not leave the creature's side, staying awake while she fell asleep, exhausted.
His mind wandered to the next steps, mainly wanting to cross the Wall and go to Winterfell, but first, he needed to get the dragon out of there, and it wasn't bad at all to have a dragon by his side.
"What would the bards of Skyrim say about this? It would certainly make a good song—of a Targaryen coming to his land and freeing a dragon from its prison, kept for thousands of years," Jon comnted, there with only the sound of the wind and the energy of the spriggans generating the healing, since there was nothing else to do.
The dragon was still asleep, and he remained silent until, after a few hours, Jon looked to the north, as his spectral wolves began to be killed there.
"Looks like they've finally arrived," Jon murmured, removing his new axe and the Dark Sister from the dinsional space.
The sound of small growls began to co with the wind from the north, a snowstorm approaching. His wolves were disappearing one by one, leaving nothing between them and the undead, while his side remained with the fallen dragon surrounded by spriggans still healing it.
Seeing the approaching storm, like a blizzard, Jon quickly began summoning more creatures. Two dremora generals appeared with their sinister tones as they spoke their language, greeting the Dragonborn.
Jon didn't stop with his summoning, as several lines of Oblivion portals began to appear, and he had to catch his breath a bit after bringing forth thirty fla atronachs around him—far more than was typically allowed, but he couldn't afford to summon fewer here.
It was at that very mont that the cold wind reached them, further obstructing visibility in the darkness of the night as the undead began to erge, passing through the trees and the trench created by the dragon, rushing towards them.
"Well, looks like they've reached us. Prepare!!" Jon exclaid in a harsh tone, as, by his side, the atronachs began quickly launching flas, advancing like a rain of fire unaffected by the blizzard, striking the creatures and exploding them into flas with each hit.
Thus it went, with one side of the ground filled with burning undead, and the other with Jon, the dragon, and his summons, beginning to spit and launch fire from their hands, lighting up the dark area.
The dremora did not attack, as Jon had instructed them to perform a ritual, and they began to chant in unison.
The dragon woke up startled at this point, trying to raise her head and move due to the situation and the danger she felt.
"Try to get up, we need to leave! I'll try to hold them back," Jon shouted in the old tongue to the dragon.
Quickly, Jon ran forward, shouting, "Yol Toor Shul," unleashing his fla Thu'um that emitted a sound, blinding everything on the ground before all shone and advanced through the midst of the undead, burning them in a straight line, accompanied by the cries and growls of the dying wights. anwhile, the wights were advancing from the other sides.
The summoned dremora generals had finally completed their ritual enchantnts while Jon faced the undead, advancing against the first that erged and killing them here and there with his weapons, while the atronachs continued burning as many as they could.
As soon as the final word left the dremora general's mouth, a line of fire rose around the area like a massive circle, halting all advances and leaving only a few dozen undead already within.
"This is good..." Jon nodded with satisfaction and went for the wights inside, eliminating them with swift cuts, while the flas grew stronger with a powerful fire spell, the dead trying to circle around, but unable to advance.
"We can hold them for a while," Jon murmured. "But everyone stay alert!" he said to the dremora generals as he repositioned himself.
It didn't take long, as all the malicious blue eyes looked at them, for the undead to simply start throwing themselves into the flas to try to extinguish them or make a bridge for others to cross.
"Pretty smart," Jon murmured, as he watched the dead quickly burn. Others tried to pass over, but they were burned as well, after all, it was a spell from a dremora general, and more and more began to fall into the flas, burning, until they finally managed to create a space to pass before the flas rose again. However, they couldn't go very far with the atronachs beginning to hurl fire at them.
The situation was getting a bit more difficult, as the undead tried to cross from all sides, with the atronachs having to cast fire in every direction, attempting to hold back the advance.
Jon pointed to one side before unleashing another Thu'um, spinning through the flas and burning an entire crowd of undead. He could have ended most of them with just one shout, as they were vulnerable there, but just as he was about to release a third shout to the other side, he felt sothing flying towards him from the north—the target was the dragon struggling to stand.
"Those bastards..." Jon murmured, before throwing his axe into the air again, intercepting the ice spear with a crack as both weapons fell.
As he retrieved the axe, another spear began to form. Before he could think, he struck it again.
Jon felt that his telekinesis wasn't working on the spear, likely because it was magical. Quickly, he advanced, striking the third spear with the Dark Sister, which made a loud crack when repelled, but stopped the mont after, as Jon retreated again, looking into the darkness of the surrounding storm.
The dragon was trying to stand with all her strength, still being healed by the spriggans, who did their best to keep the spell active. The dremoras continued to hurl flas to try to hold back the advance, also casting other spells while mocking the undead.
This went on for a while, as Jon frowned. The number of spears thrown from the darkness increased, revealing that more and more undead and their generals were arriving, and he could confirm this with his magical eyes. The dragon finally began to rise, struggling to stand, but still trembling.
Jon knew he couldn't stay there any longer. Quickly, he used a Thu'um to encourage the dragon, as he had done in the cave, while advancing toward her, climbing up the scales on the ground and jumping onto her back.
"Co on, girl, we have to get out of here quickly, now!" he said, deflecting another spear with his axe.
The dragon began to flex her wings backward, preparing for takeoff.
"Leave this place imdiately!!" Jon commanded, and the wings moved, lifting dust and snow from the ground as the wind clashed against the blizzard, while the undead continued to surround the area, trying to enter the circle of fire. Once again, the white dragon began to gain altitude.
Jon deflected another spear with his axe, while sheathing the Dark Sister. He quickly unleashed another Thu'um against a second spear, which was coming too fast to avoid. The roar of the Thu'um collided with it, sending the spear flying back, but a third spear ca, advancing at high speed and striking the dragon's hind leg in the air, causing her to cry out in pain as red blood began to flow and the dragon almost started to fall.
Jon looked at it, seeing how bad it was, while below them, the undead finally broke through the circle of fire, advancing against the summons, which were quickly overwheld by the sheer number of enemies.
"We need to get out of here!" he shouted once more to the dragon with a tone of authority. The female made a great effort, beginning to beat her wings and move into the air in the direction they had escaped last ti, dodging another spear that flew through the air, managing to get out of its reach and leaving that place behind—but she was even more wounded than the first ti they had left the north, as the dragon erged from the snowstorm, leaving the undead behind.
Raccoon Here: Attention, everyone: I won't be posting anything during the week from the 25th to the 1st, as I'll be taking so personal ti off.
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