Back in the bustling city of Whiterun, Jason presented the heavy Dragonstone to Farengar Secret-Fire, the court mage. The Altmer's eyes widened behind his spectacles, gleaming with an almost manic scholarly excitement as he traced the intricate carvings on the stone.
"By the Eight Divines," Farengar breathed, his voice hushed with awe and disbelief. "This… this confirms it. Dragons have returned to Skyrim."
As Jason recounted his experience in the depths of Bleak Falls Barrow, describing the word of power and the inexplicable surge of energy he had felt, Farengar's gaze intensified. He immediately summoned the Jarl, Balgruuf the Greater, a powerful and respected ruler whose presence filled the war room with an air of authority.
Balgruuf listened intently, his brow furrowed with concern, his gaze sharp and assessing as Jason spoke. Without hesitation, he turned to Jason. "There have been reports. A dragon sighted near the Western Watchtower. Go there, stranger. See what you can see."
At the windswept watchtower, the air thick with the stench of burnt wood and fear, Jason confronted his destiny head-on. The dragon descended from the stormy sky, its roar a deafening challenge. He fought with a ferocity born of desperation and the brutal lessons learned in Gotham's underbelly, his movements surprisingly effective against the ancient beast's raw power. And when his final blow struck true, felling the magnificent creature, something impossible happened. He felt the dragon's very essence flow into him, a searing surge of power that left him staggering, breathless.
He had absorbed its soul.
The Jarl's guards, their faces pale with shock and awe, whispered amongst themselves, their eyes fixed on Jason. "Dragonborn," one murmured, the word echoing in the stunned silence. "He's Dragonborn."
Jason, still reeling from the alien sensation, felt an icy dread creep down his spine. Dragonborn. A title, a destiny he neither understood nor desired, thrust upon him in this bewildering new world. Yet, he couldn't deny the raw power that now thrummed within his veins, a tangible link to the dragons themselves.
His second life, already a twisted tapestry of resurrection and violence, had taken another impossible turn. He was no longer just Jason, the Red Hood, haunted by the ghosts of his past. He was something more, something… legendary.
A.N: Starting from chapter 4 the chapters will be longer. Please like an review.