CHAPTER ONE: REBIRTH
"Born amidst ash and flame, your heart made of starlight and your body of dust. Today you will not return to your beginning beast, you are needed still."
The world burned and smelled of bitter ashes, the lovely and terrifying perfume of war.
The purple of the otherworldly sky faded with the darkness and with the vanishing light of Sovngarde came the coldness of a never ending night. With the encroaching black the thoughts of the old heroes began to fade yet one burned bright from within that shade. Images of her pale eyes gleaming with prideful delight, that wicked sin that had been his doomed moments last sight, bloomed from within the black just to taunt him. How dare she win when she had been nothing more than a fake painted pretty with lies of calling herself a dovah. How dare she end what had been his, how dare she be triumphant over the World-Eater, Akatosh's first!
How dare she stand there still with stolen air in her lungs as his world burned to ash.
As the blessed body of the dragon bathed in black ceased its existence the monster's reign of terror ebbed away with each part of its being that turned to cold embers. His heart's terror betrayed him as he called to the sky hoping that something, anyone, would stop this madness. He had not been some foolish mortal who had fallen to the hands of weaker vermin, no, he had been his Father's first and would always rule with that title. It was his almighty right to do so and this act, here and now, had been nothing more than trickery. He held the belief that the deceivers would pay most certainly if his plea had been loud enough. But as the beast's body turned to nothingness it became ever clearer that not only had he been forsaken by this foolish mortal but by his own father as well and it all seemed to make the torment last in itself that much longer. Wether or not the anger in his heart had come from the realization that he had been abandoned or the fact his final moments had been spent in terror had been lost to him. At this point he was more angry than defeated.
"Zu'u unslaad! Zu'u nis oblaan!" the words slipped through with bitter backlash as his final moments began to dissolve completely. But before he could disappear entirely, however, a final curse had been asserted upon the creature with the pale eyes.
"Grik pahlok! Such arrogance! If you believe this to be the end of me then you believe wrong! I shall return and make your soul mine as it should have been from the start."
Maddening had been his cries yet in time they stopped. The dragon of black dissolved completely leaving nothing, not even a single trace of ash behind to serve as a reminder of what had once been. It was a victory but a peculiar victory. It didn't feel like it should have and it had caused a bit of grief within the last living dovahkiin. Though no words passed through her lips the unsung thoughts painted themselves across her face, across the jagged pale pink scars and war paint of deep red, and riddled the pale eyes with many perplexing shadows.
Within time Alduin's cries had faded from the battlefield and as his body dispersed into the sky the eyes of warriors long since passed watched their debt be paid in full. Soon the victory settled in and as their hearts swelled with pride and their lungs filled with air their own cries of joy echoed throughout the heliotrope painted realm. But there was nothing more than silence for the pale eyed creature now. It was a heavy, ash-tasting silence that rung empty.
"When you are ready to rejoin the living," said the titan of a man who stood beside the ancient heroes, his eyes watching the creature before him. "just bid me so, and I will send you back."
There were no words needed, not even a single utter, for one look had all that it had taken for the Dragonborn to agree to his proposal. As silent as ever the tired hero had left leaving cheering victors of old behind and as happy farewells had shattered the silence a golden light caressed the battle-worn body covering the creature in a lovely, warm glow. Within seconds the tenderness faded leaving a cold chill in its wake and as the gold fell away the sight of icy winds was all that there was to see. The cold racked her heart yet still she stood vigilant, her pale eyes watching the gray horizon only to reveal the many scaled beasts who called out to the never ending gray. The dragons hummed the name of their lost brother in a wistful, sad way as a dirge for what had no longer been.
"So it is done," Paarthurnax began with a certain sadness in his voice, the sound of the dragons chanting a haunting melody as he had spoken to her resonated deep within her soul. "Alduin dilon. The eldest is no more, he who came before others, and has always been."
There were no words to say, nothing. Instead she stood silent as she had done before reflecting upon what it was that had happened. The victory held a bitter spite, it's taste defiling what sweet joy should have been, and in this foul flavor an empty hunger begged for an answer that would not come.
"I am sorry," she finally stated after the dragon and the woman stared at one another. "But it needed to be done."
There was a light pause, the other dragon's continuing their lament.
"Geh Fahdon, and so it did."
His words were empty and as the other dragons circled around there was a new feeling now, a sudden shift in the air, that had made the Dragonborn veer to the side uncomfortably. Paarthurnax lifted to the air yet this had not been the cause for the deep unsettlement within her heart. It was a deeper, darker shift somewhere far away and in her confusion the creature turned to look try and find it. But again she could not see it and instead found herself staring at a familiar dragon of scarlet scales and dark eyes.
"So you have proven yourself twice over," Odahviing spoke in a proud manner. "I gladly acknowledge the power of your Thu'um."
The Dragonborn stood vigilantly, her pale eyes staring through the dark wisps of her hair as the winter winds passed through it.
"Call me when you are in need and I will come when I can."
Nodding to the great scarlet beast she simply stood upon her spot as he took to the skies with a great flap of his wings. The other dragons joined high above and beneath the starlight the creatures glimmered as they continued their lament. There was still that feeling that lay within her heart and though it would never be uttered the Dragonborn found herself become restless to leave. So without more to say the woman began her descent downward, the dragons singing their sorrows all the way through.
A beautiful, sad thing that so few would ever know.
At the bottom of the mountain in the little town of Ivarstead a peculiar phenomenon began. Near the broken and tattered home across the flowing water a beautiful light glowed from within, the purple spilling through the cracks and blooming gently.
Inside the broken shack a man of cold flesh lay on the ground, the black of his hair matted against his skin. His fingers touched the cold of the wood and light wisps of warm breath slipped through his lips. The rise and fall of his chest made a soft humming sound as the light faded as he came to be entirely.
"W-who?" spoke the man in rags just off to the side as his dark eyes scanned the naked man who lay upon his floor. The purple of the light blinded him and in his confusion he had woken to find another in his home.
The old wooden floor creaked as the sleeping man shifted, his eyes darting back and forth as he had slowly began to wake. As consciousness became his the edges of his jaw tightened, his knuckles became white with tension as he stirred further.
"Dragonborn." the man upon the ground hissed, the other confused more than ever by the words. The silence ebbed and flowed gently and the light creaking of the boards beneath the man's shifting weight as he lifted upward made a harsh cut into the quiet.
Yet in that quietness of the silence, the gentle notion of the still, the eyes of scarlet opened wide and flared with a deep burning anger.
"Where is the she?" he demanded in a furious tone once more. "Where is the Dragonborn?"
But all the poor man could do was cower before the other as his anger burned. Unbeknownst to him he had now been in the presence of the World-Eater, a once-dragon now mortal. Scales traded for flesh, horns now hair, a cruel punishment from a father unhappy with his child. Alduin asked for his help and here it was in the form of a mortal man.
And all Alduin could feel was anger and a bit of a chill from the cold night wind.