"I found you, Paarthurnax."

The dragon raised his ancient head, opening his eyes slowly. Around them, the snow howled. Paarthurnax saw the hooded figure stop a few feet in front of him, nothing bare save the fingers. The black stood stark against the white of the snow that covered everything, including him. He shook his wings and emerged from the snow, before blinking his slitted eyes at the figure in the wooden mask.

"Drem yol lok, fahdoni. It has been a long time. You have travelled far to meet me here."

"Drem yol lok, zeymah. I have."

"A long search. I chose to leave in peace without provoking your people. But I see you have, hmm, a laan of me. A request. You would not come so far to speak, even for a friend." He stretched out his wings and settled down on his haunches, tucking his wings to his side.

"You are right, though I have long since missed our talks," the figure shifted, placing their hand on Paarthurnax's nose. Paarthurnax leaned into the touch, making a noise of contentment. "But it is not an important matter."

"Important enough for you to find me."

"I just wish to talk, today."

"Fine. Filok. An escape, then, from your responsibilities."

"Yes."

Paarthurnax looked down at them. "You find them more difficult than you expected."

"Yes. Very much so."

He sighed, blowing plumes of smoke out through his nose. "You are versed enough in dov tinvaak to know what my name means in the common tongue?"

"Ambition, overlord, cruelty. Yes. I know."

"And you remember that I was in fact Alduin's general before I taught the thu'um to mortals?"

"Yes."

"We are not mortals. That is your first mistake, fahdon. We do not act as you do. We came into this world fully formed. We are not born, and so we cannot die. We are ageless, with souls older than the stars. I have seen the advent of worlds, the rise and fall of nations, hundreds of lives of so-called great men, mer, and beast alike.

"Some would say it is not within our nature to change. Perhaps that is true. They say we are by nature violent, aggressive creatures, our words capable of slaughtering dozens.

"To hold power, to have the right of things. Power is the one truth that dragons acknowledge. Those are the same to us, as action is to breathing. We speak to action. We are creatures of magicka. When we speak, our actions become our words. Our words, actions. What we speak becomes reality. There are those that call us the dov rah. For what is the definition of a god but one who is not born and does not die? One whose very will lashes the world to their bidding?

"Men fear what they do not understand. But are they right to fear? Golhahrii, tell me what you believe."

The figure in the wooden mask tilted its head. "I do not know what to believe."

"An honest answer." His eyes flickered to the wooden mask. "Aar of the People."

"I am not. At least, not now."

"You have fled them."

They did not respond to Paarthurnax's statement. The silence dragged on, punctuated only by the sound of the howling wind. The figure spoke after several minutes, the word drawn out and hesitant. "Perhaps."

Paarthurnax lifted his head, his laugh loud and strong, echoing over the valley. "Perhaps," he repeated. "You have a kingdom waiting for you, jun. And yet here you remain, chatting with an old dragon."

"To subdue a continent, that's one thing. To keep it under heel, that's another."

"As Alduin and the dov god-kings have well learned. But again, it takes the hand of a firm master."

"I have people that I trust in my stead, as you well know."

"Yes, but it takes very little time for unrest to grow. A leader must first be a servant of his people. In order to be the best master, you must become a slave to their needs. They forget quickly."

"Strange advice, coming from a dragon. Particularly one whose name translates into 'ambition-overlord-cruelty.'"

Paarthurnax inclined his head. "We are our indeed our natures. It is vahzen, a truth, if not the only one."

"Power is the ultimate truth to dragons, you said."

"I did. It is the way of the dragons."

"But not you. You taught men the thu'um. You rebelled."

"And yet my ambition led me to lead the sect of dragons that broke away."

"And cruelty?"

"Is it cruel to deny one's nature? Or is it crueler still to live by it?"

The figure stroked the carved relief of the mask covering their face. "Perhaps."

"Perhaps yet again? Uncertainty does not become you."

"It is an uncertain time." The hands moved to support the chin.

"Old friend, we are not so different as you might think, you and I. Men too conquer. Men too, destroy. Men too, say might makes right. You are restless. It is in your blood. But to one who has conquered the world, what is there left but to conquer yourself?"

"You make a fair point."

"I'd like to think I learnt a thing or two over the eras." Paarthurnax waved a claw at the wooden mask covering his face. "That does not become you."

The figure's posture tensed. "It is the path I must walk."

Paarthurnax stretched his wings out wide before tucking them at his side. "And we all must walk our own. But I urge caution. You do not know that to which you bind yourself. Death sometimes can be a gift."

"Says the immortal dragon. "

"So I have been told by those once mortal. So I have been told by the spirits bound here against their will. So have I been told by those caged in flesh prisons. I know their krosis. The sorrow in their words."

"Your guidance is much appreciated, fahdoni." The figure gave him a deep bow.

Paarthurnax inclined his head. "You know our ways. Feel free to remain here as long as you wish."

"For a few days, perhaps. Then I must go. We will speak on the reason I am here tomorrow."

A deep rumble in Paarthurnax's chest. "Perhaps."

The figure laughed. "Perhaps. I would like to see Venvahdiin."

"In meditation at the summit." He lifted his tail and pointed it towards the top of the mountain. Krif voth ahkrin, fahdoni."

"And you, Paarthurnax."