Jonas was born, he came into the world from his mother's body, and this process was painful for both. The boy felt sad for his wailing mother and was immensely grateful for her sacrifice.
However, the other soul inside him was still muttering. Jonas vaguely remembered that it had always been there, he had just ignored it before.
"Disgusting, a disgusting half-breed bastard, damn it, why isn't he a Nord, but a lowly Breton…"
The newborn Jonas began a life belonging to two people. That cruel, bloodthirsty, and tyrannical personality always clamored in his ear. Yes, he just couldn't hear it before, but now he could.
It disdained everything mortal: food, architecture, clothing, weapons, and even art, war, politics, philosophy, and science, criticizing them comprehensively.
Jonas lived honestly, his life's trajectory unchanged. In fact, he was merely an observer, observing this memory.
Everything was exactly the same as in the depths of his mind, except for one more 'it'.
"What's your name?"
"Shut up, you useless thing! You are not worthy to know My name!" It clamored again.
Jonas sighed silently.
At one year old, Jonas's speech was still intermittent, and it furiously mocked his supposed idiocy.
At two years old, other children were running around, but Jonas was kept in his room, cared for by a Redguard Woman. It sarcastically called Jonas a prisoner in his own home and the Redguard his jailer. After Jonas retorted a few times, it continued to quibble, so he simply dropped the topic.
At three years old, his mother had more free time and would take him for walks in the spacious living room. She liked to sit by the balcony, basking in the sun, playing the flute, and singing soothing songs. Whenever this Woman began to hum, it would start making noise, like a noisy, unruly child covering its ears. Jonas ignored its interference and focused on listening to every note that came from his mother's nasal cavity.
At four years old, it was time to start reading and writing. Jonas's talent was quite good; he had a natural curiosity for knowledge. Although he was always ridiculed by it, Jonas didn't care. He knew that a child didn't have much power.
His father's face grew gloomier day by day. He would drink and vent in the living room, and the noisy sounds would penetrate the walls of Jonas's bedroom. It felt like a thundercloud roaring.
"Your father is truly disgraceful," It began to mock Jonas as usual.
"Oh."
"Are you really so content? If your useless old man were stronger, a little smarter, you would still be a child of a noble family in Daggerfall. Haha, although such nobility is worthless, don't you want to continue this life? Live peacefully, be a young master, avoid those hardships, being bought and sold, your adoptive parents killed…"
"Enough!" Jonas was angry at it for the first time. "My life is not a game on a chessboard. Even if I lost a move, I will never think of taking it back. What kind of person I am must be judged by myself. No matter what you say, I will not listen to a single word. My teacher said that if a person does not accept their fate, they should not have 'what ifs'. Once you start with 'what ifs', you are treading the old path."
It screamed in rage, "Go to hell! Be a dog if you're so willing! You need to know that no one else but me will ever be sincere with you! Because they all want to use us to kill that dragon of destiny, so they can live in peace, and what about us? We won't even know when we die!"
After saying that, it panted heavily, then caught its breath and continued to curse, "Don't mention your teacher to me, just a lowly beastfolk. What if he's a little clever? He can't die for you! Leave him and everyone else as soon as possible. Let's find a place, gather some people, and become kings of a mountain, just like your ancestors, declaring yourselves nobles, hahaha, how exhilarating!"
Jonas mocked it, "I thought you looked down on such petty actions."
"That's because you, this useless thing, are limiting my power."
"Your power?"
"Yes, as long as you nod and let me make the decisions for you, you will have the greatest power in the world. You will be a god among men!"
"Oh, but I refuse."
It screamed in anger once again.
…
"Fus—Ro Dah!" [Dragon Shout: Unrelenting Force]
The boy let out a desolate Dragon Shout, and in an instant, he seemed to transform into a majestic mountain, lofty and profound, rooted in the earth, with infinite power.
Simon felt immense psychological pressure, his body uncontrollably sending signals of surrender and escape.
Jonas was replaced by another soul, incredibly powerful, like the most ancient of Dragons, all-conquering.
Dilo wanted to help but was shouted back by Simon. The four Greybeards appeared at the courtyard entrance at some point, standing on the steps, watching the battle.
Simon cast a Courage spell on himself, nullifying the negative status, then charged forward bare-handed.
The boy's second personality had realized that destruction magic would be difficult to harm a Troll, but to a Dragon, even the thickest armor was nothing more than mud and straw, easily shattered.
"Krii—Lun Aus!" [Dragon Shout: Mark for Death]
A rapidly moving blue-purple energy orb struck the charging Troll; at such a short distance, it was impossible to dodge.
The magical tattoos on Simon's body instantly dimmed, and a huge sense of weakness overwhelmed him.
The Troll's eyes widened between his brows, and his Killing Intent Aura unfolded, enveloping a corner of the courtyard without spreading wantonly.
For a moment, the boy's movements stiffened. Simon lightly chopped towards his neck, but the Killing Intent Aura had little control over those with strong willpower, especially powerful individuals with mental strength; it could only restrain them for a brief instant.
The hand-blade grazed past the boy's left ear. Immediately, the Breton Boy suddenly broke free and lunged wildly, one hand grabbing at Simon's face, the other with prominent knuckles aiming for Simon's thoracic spine, his mouth wide open, intending to tear at his throat.
A beast-like fighting style. Simon had never taught such combat techniques. Or rather, this was the instinct of the boy's second personality.
Indeed, it was a Dragon Soul.
…
That day was drawing near, like some kind of judgment.
On a deep, rainy night—was it that every wanderer leaving home did so when the clouds wept?—his mother took five-year-old Jonas and slipped through a drainage ditch out of Daggerfall's city walls, got into a servant's carriage, and fled in a sorry state.
The city was utterly silent, only the howling wind and torrential rain lashed at the human settlement on the peninsula. The raindrops were dense and cold, making small dents in clothes and stinging the skin.
In the darkness, the city's silhouette flickered under leaden clouds churning with pale lightning, too dark to discern its specific outline, let alone the appearance of home.
A long wail echoed within the city, followed by shouts of chaos and war. Daggerfall was in turmoil; the human storm suddenly overshadowed the storm of heaven and earth.
Crackle, boom, screams, gasps, roars—human voices, the sounds of weapons, the sounds of buildings, all mixed together, like drumbeats, like exploding fireballs, making people afraid to look, afraid to listen. Death hovered above, its gaze so full of malice…
A long time passed.
No more shouts could be heard from behind. The rainy night was so still. His mother whispered softly in his ear, "It's okay, it's okay, don't be afraid…"
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