Solarius led him through dragonhold, showing him a couple of important places as he took in the grandeur of the ancient enclave. He eventually led them to a towering hall carved directly into a rock, its entrance flanked by two colossal dragon statues.
He dismounted at the entrance of the cave.
As they entered, Lucian felt a shift in the air—a weighty, sacred aura that made his every step feel airy and extremely light. Inside, the chamber was vast, its walls were lined with ancient symbols and hieroglyphics depicting the history of dragonkind. At the center stood a circular table, its surface inlaid with a detailed map of the continent. Around it were several smaller dragons and dragonlords, their eyes turning to Lucian with a mix of curiosity and skepticism.
"Sit," the king commanded, his voice echoing through the hall.
Lucian hesitated before taking a lone small chair that seemed to have been made with a human-sized creature in mind. Saphira curled up at his feet, her tail twitching nervously. The king took his place at the head of the table, his golden scales catching the light of the glowing crystals embedded in the ceiling. After a brief pause, he started.
"What you have experienced so far is only a fragment of what lies ahead," Solarius began, his deep voice filling the chamber. "Our world is changing, ours specifically, and not for the better."
The map on the table shimmered, and with a wave of the king's claw, it came to life. Cities, rivers, and mountains glowed faintly, their contours shifting to reveal troop movements, and territories marked in red.
"Nearly every major city in Skyrim has begun mobilizing their forces. They have tried to keep it under wraps, but such a massive undertaking cannot entirely be concealed," Solarius continued, his tone grave. "From Solitude to Riften, from Windhelm to Whiterun. All except for Markarth. Their intentions remain unclear, but their actions suggest one thing: there is a high chance they are also making preparations for war against us."
Lucian leaned forward, his brows furrowing. "Why? What reason could they possibly have to turn against dragonkind?"
Solarius gaze darkened. "That is the question we have yet to answer. But it is not only their armies that concern us. Their diplomatic ties are as usual, some of them soured. Some of their trade routes are disrupted. Even their relations with one another are strained. Yet, they are united in this one goal: to weaken and perhaps even destroy us."
One of the elder dragons, a silver-scaled female named Seralyth, spoke up. "They seem to see us as a threat. To them now, we're probably a relic of a bygone era that no longer fits their vision of the world and must therefore be eradicated."
Another elder, his black scales scarred from countless battles, growled. "And perhaps they fear what we are capable of if united under a true dragonlord once more."
'A true dragonlord huh?'
'Seems the responsibility that attached to this title is far more than I imagined it to be.'
"Why Markarth?" he asked, trying to focus on the one anomaly in the king's explanation. "Why haven't they completely joined the others?"
Solarius' expression remained inscrutable. "Markarth has always been an enigma. Their isolationist tendencies make them difficult to predict. Whether they will side with us, remain neutral, or turn against us remains to be seen."
Lucian clenched his fists. "So what do we do? We can't just sit here and wait for them to come to us,... right?."
The king nodded approvingly. "That is why you are here, Lucian. You have proven yourself capable, but your current strength is vastly insufficient, to cause any significant change in the battles ahead. To truly lead, you must grow—stronger, wiser, and more attuned to the essence of dragonkind."
He cocked a brow in bewilderment. "And how am I supposed to do that?"
Solarius gestured to the map, which shifted to show the northern expanse of Skyrim. A single landmark glowed brightly: the College of Winterhold.
"The College of Winterhold," the king said. "It is a neutral zone brimming with unparalleled knowledge, where the greatest mages and scholars gather. There, you will study magic, history, strategy, and perhaps, you'll come to unlock the ancient arts that define what it means to be a dragonlord."
Lucian's eyes widened. He knew this place all too well, of course—its towering spires perched on the cliffs of the Sea of Ghosts, its reputation as a haven for the arcane. But he had never imagined he would personally set foot there.
"Magic?" he asked, his voice tinged with doubt. "I've never been trained in magic. I think my skill with a sword needs more attention."Solarius' gaze softened slightly. "You carry the bloodline of dragonlords, Lucian. Magic flows through you as naturally as it does through the dragons themselves. At the College, you will learn to harness that power."
Seralyth spoke again, her tone cautious.
"But be warned, little dragonlord. The College is not without its dangers. The pursuit of knowledge can lead to power, but it can also lead to corruption, as well as cause daggers to turn towards your back."
Lucian nodded, "Of course, I know this all too well."
"Good. You'll be leaving first thing at dawn. We should be able to meet up with the last batch of examinees. I apologize that you'll have to leave when you've just made it here."
"No… Thank you for the opportunity," he smiled wryly.
— — — —
That night, he sat at the edge of a cliff overlooking the bustling streets of dragonhold. Even at night, activity here was at an all-time high. He decided to look over the system one more time before he set off tomorrow.
— — — —
Name: Lucian
Race: High Elf
Title: Novice Dragonlord
Lv: 18
XP: 150/200
SP: 6
>>HP: 100/100
>>Magika: 150/150
>>SPD: 43>>DEF: 23
Skills:
Dragon Veil Lv1
Draconic Symbiosis Lv1
MagicFlames Lv4
Chain Lightning Lv1
Weapons
Cinderstorm
Dragon's Bonefire Sword
Crystal Talon
Wyrmscale Cloak
"Wyrmscale cloak? Hmm.. that's new."
He remembered getting some reward for completing the emergency quest issued by the system during the duel. He expanded the information section of the weapon.
— —
Wyrmscale Cloak
Type: Armor/Weapon Hybrid
Base Stat; +30 Def
Elemental Resistance: +25% Ice, +25% Lightning
Passive Skills;
Draconic Blood: Reduces fire damage by 70% and nullifies minor burn effects.
Energy Retention: Regenerates 1% max mana every 15 seconds.
Active Skills;
Infernal Lash: The scaly edges of the cloak extends in a wide arc, enhanced with searing heat, inflicting bleeding and burn effect (stackable up to 3 times).
Cost: 100 Magika, CD: 20 seconds
Wyrmguard: Creates a translucent barrier of hardened scales that absorbs up too 300 damage. Fire attacks are fully absorbed, healing the wearer for 10% of absorbed damage.
Duration: 12 seconds, Cost: 150 Magika, CD: 3 minutes
The cloak looked like it was forged from scales but still felt smooth to the touch. The bottom edges of the cloak was lined with what looked like curved dragon claws.
Equipping it, he mused, "These active skills… are just insane. The mana cost is proof enough that they're on another tier," he mused, "But the magika cost is the only issue too…" He brought out the SP conversion menu and immediately spent 5SP on adding 50 points to his magika pool, bringing it to a total of 200. That way he should have more flexibility and options in battle.