- 23rd of Mid Year, 4E 202 -
I haven't had much time to write the last few days.
After following Delphine to an old dragon burial mound, witnessing one dragon resurrect another, and then killing the resurrected dragon ... Kharjo and I headed all the way back up to High Hrothgar to return the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller. I purchased a horse in Windhelm before we left, which will cost me more in food every day but also will allow us to carry more.
After a difficult journey up the steps from Ivarstead, we were once again back in High Hrothgar. The greybeards were impressed with me for retrieving the horn, and taught me the final word of the unrelenting force shout. They then gave me the location of another word wall where I could learn more of the ancient language.
We headed back down the mountain to Ivarstead and spent the night. The next morning at sunrise we set out for Windhelm after a breakfast of apples and sweet nut treats. Delphine had told us she needed some time to figure out how to get into the Thalmor embassy so we could get more information from them. So I decided to go back to Windhelm to figure out our next move.
I'm certainly intrigued with Delphine's theory about the dragons, and I'm also interested in learning more about this language of power. But over the past few weeks I've also been feeling that I had strayed from the path. My father's blood is still on the hands of the imperials who pollute Skyrim with their presence. Certainly the dragons pose a threat to my homeland, but a handful of men armed with bows and courage can take one down. I've seen it with my own eyes now. Kharjo, Delphine and I were even able to kill one of the beasts .. just the three of us.
No, the real threat to Skyrim is not the reappearance of the dragon. The real threat is still the imperials, who erode our strength and undermine our authority every day. Is Helgen but a fleeting memory to my fellow nords now? It would seem so. Even in Windhelm I hear more talk of dragons than I do of gutting imperials.
While speaking with the greybeards I learned that the gods send a dragonborn during times of need. I am dragonborn. I know this and accept this now. And it's up to me to determine why the gods bestowed this responsibility upon me. Was it so that I could fight dragons? Or was it so that I could avenge the blood of the innocent, slain by men drunk on power?
While on the way back down to Windhelm we were attacked by a sabre cat. Almost instinctively I decided to use my new shout against the beast. With a mighty voice I spoke power into form and the sabre cat went flying down the trail ... dead before it even hit the ground. Kharjo didn't say a word. I think my new power makes him nervous.
A bit further down the trail we were attacked again, this time by a khajit. Once again I used my voice and the assassin flew through the air and bounced off trees before landing in a lifeless pile of arms and legs fifty paces down the trail.
It was these two experiences that opened my eyes to my purpose. I wasn't sent by the gods to fight dragons anymore than I was sent to fight sabre cats and assassins. I was sent by the gods to avenge my father's death and route the imperials from Skyrim. With my new abilities I will be a formidable opponent for them indeed.
And that brings me to Kharjo. My destiny with the imperials is my own. It is not Kharjo's. He has been a perfect companion, and has saved my life on many occasions. He has never complained and followed me into some horrible places to fight by my side. He is a true friend. And this is why I am going to continue on without him in the morning. Tonight we will feast like we never have before, but come first light I will send him back to his people where he belongs.
The road ahead of me is my destiny, and I will set out on it alone.
