Alduin, the World-Eater, flew through the mist he had created to feast on the mortals. Not a moment before, he had felt a presence. Something alive, and mortal, had entered the realm of the fallen. He knew that it was the Dovahkiin. Alduin knew it would take all his strength to kill the "hero". But, he thought as he grabbed a blue-cloaked Man, the fool screaming and pleading, he had time.

The Dovahkiin stood under the enchanted night sky and took a step that carried a burden that only he could bear. His armor clinked as he walked down the old staircase into the field that led to led to the Hall of Valor. The armor of those dragons that fell to him clung to his body, protecting him like scales. He saw a black shape descend into the mist. I do this for my world, he thought as he tightened his grip on his shield and walked into the field.

The Dragonborn Shouted, "Lok Vah Koor!" Instantly, the mist lifted and the path became clear to him. He solemnly walked forward. He heard a roar close by, and put a hand on his sword.

"Well, hello, brother," a familiar voice said.

Sitting on a rock was Kodlak Whitemane, the previous Harbinger of the Companions. The old man looked in excellent physical condition. He wore the armor of the ancient Nords.

"Kodlak." The Dragonborn's voice was deeper than the old man's, and it carried a certain tone that the old man felt rather than he heard.

"I am happy to see that you have come this far in your quest. It seems that we have done much to send me to this place, and now I may never taste the mead in the Hall of Valor," Kodlak mused.

"I am here to end this madness. Alduin will be vanquished, and this realm-and the world of the living-will be saved," the Dragonborn informed the saddened Nord.

"But, how can you be so sure? He is destined to consume the world. What can you do?"

"I can raise my sword and say 'no'. As long as I stand, I will push Alduin back. I must believe that I have the strength to do it. I fear that you will not be able to make the passage until this is over. For me, Harbinger, stay here until this evil has been brought down."

Kodlak laid a hand on the Dragonborn's shoulder. "I believe in you. I always have. Save Nirn and Sovngarde. Stop the World-Eater, and we shall celebrate and the bards shall sing of you for years to come. Harbinger," he added with a smile.

The Dragonborn left the old man sitting on a rock. The evil needed to be stopped first. He continued on his quest.

Soon, the Dragonborn made his way to a great chasm. Following it, he found a man with no armor standing in front of a great bridge of an enormous beast of the sea.

"Halt," the unarmored, tall man said, "What brings you, wayfarer grim, to wander here, in Sovngarde, souls-end, Shor's gift to honored dead?"

The Dragonborn looked at the man. He spoke in a low voice, "I pursue Alduin, the World Eater."

"A fateful errand. No few have chafed to face the Worm since first he set his soul-snare here at Sovngarde's threshold. But Shor restrained our wrathful onslaught - perhaps, deep counselled, your doom he foresaw."

"I seek entrance to the Hall of Valor. Will you let me pass?"

"No shade are you, as usually here passes, but living, you dare the land of the dead. By what right do you request entry?"

"By right of birth. I am the Last Dragonborn." The ground shook beneath both men.

"Ah! It's been too long since last I faced a doom-driven hero of the dragon blood. Living or dead, by decree of Shor, none may pass this perilous bridge 'till I judge them worthy by the warrior's test."

"Then," the Dragonborn said, drawing breath and sword, "let us be done with this matter of triviality."

The unarmored man drew his battleaxe and, issuing a cry, ran at the Dragonborn. He swung his weapon downward, but it connected with the Dragonborn's shield at a tilted angle away from the carrier's body, so that it hit the ground with a thud. The shield then came up and hit the guardian in the nose. The impact would have made a lesser man stagger, but the guardian merely gave ground because of the push that the Dragonborn performed. You will push the world harder than it pushes back. The Dragonborn, getting up from the defensive stance, drove his sword into the ground and came up with a fist that hit the guardian in the left eye. The unarmored man, unfazed, picked up his battleaxe and swung laterally. The Dragonborn went under the attack and, dropping his shield, tackled the guardian with all his might. The Dragonborn landed on top of the guardian and produced a dagger from his right boot. Placing it on the neck of the guardian, he spoke calmly. "I believe I have bested you." The guardian laughed. "That you have. Go forward, into the Hall of Valor, Dovahkiin."

He helped the man up, and pulled his sword from the ground. He turned around, sheathing the weapon and feeling the dragonscale hilt. The guardian handed him his shield. He took it, and faced the Hall of Valor. The Last Dragonborn placed a foot on the bridge. He found each step to be harder than the last as he continued. When he reached the end of the bridge, he beheld the Hall of Valor. He placed a hand on one of the great doors. Imagine but a whisper pushing aside all in its path.

There was no laughter upon the Dovahkiin's first appearance in the great hall. No bards played songs of old. The Dovahkiin felt a sense of sadness at the hall being full of honored warriors that were virtual prisoners within the walls of their merriment. I am here to change that, he thought. When he walked in, the ancient heroes beheld him in wonder. They knew the prophecy, and recognized their last hope when they saw it. A grey-bearded man walked up to the Dovahkiin.

"Drem Yol Lok," he said with a Voice almost as rich as the Dovahkiin's, "I am Jurgen Windcaller, the founder of the Greybeards, and the creator of the Way of the Voice."

"Yol," the Dovahkiin Shouted, and fire erupted from his mouth and hit the man. He did not stagger, but among the flames, the Dovahkiin could see a smile come across his face, before opening and returning the ancient favor.

"You have come seeking aid for your quest. I am afraid Lord Shor has commissioned us to not charge into battle," he said kindly.

"Bah!" another voice said, coming up behind the Dovahkiin. He faced Ysgramor, the leader of the Five Hundred Companions. "Windcaller would not fight anyhow. Such is not my friend's way. But, Lord Shor is absent, and we must face the threat of the World-Eater. Go, Dovahkiin. The Ancient Nord Heroes await for your herald."

The Dovahkiin left the two ancient heroes and walked to the end of the large table. Three warriors waited for him. He recognized them as the heroes that banished Alduin long ago, hoping that he would become lost in time. At the right of the table he saw Hakon One-Eye, the mighty warrior that wielded his battleaxe and Voice. At the left of the table stood Gormlaith Golden-Hilt, the woman that Alduin had killed as she rushed at him atop the Throat of the World all those years ago. In the middle stood Felldir the Old, the one that used the Elder Scroll to banish Alduin. He saw remorse in their eyes and instantly knew that they were sorry that they had inadvertently caused more death and suffering, but also a certain fire in their eyes. They all wanted to end Alduin's reign, even if it meant the death of their souls.

Felldir spoke, "And so, the Last Dragonborn comes to us in this unsure hour. Dovahkiin. We have been waiting. Ever since the World-Eater came to this realm to feast and regain his power, we pleaded with Lord Shor to allow us to fight Alduin. But, Shor told us to wait. He told us of your coming. And here you stand."

"For a hundred lifetimes my heart has burned for revenge on Alduin too long delayed," said Hakon.

"Friends," the Dovahkiin said, "this is our hour. Alduin thinks he has won. Let us challenge that. Let us slay the World-Eater, for your world and mine."

"The endless way gives way to battle!" Gormlaith exclaimed, "Alduin's doom, his death or ours!"

With that, the four warriors walked out of the great hall. All the honored dead stood in reverence, but for victory or doom, they did not know. Outside, they crossed the bridge and stood in the small field covered in mist.

"We cannot fight the foe in this mist!" Felldir said.

"Clear Skies - We shall combine our Shouts!" Gormlaith suggested.

All four warriors Shouted in unison, "Lok Vah Koor!"

The mist dissipated and distantly they heard the strong Voice of Alduin Shout, "Ven Mul Riik!" The mist came back just as strong as before.

"We can shatter his power if we Shout together!" Felldir said.

Again, the heroes Shouted. Again, Alduin summoned the mist.

"Does his strength have no end? Is our struggle in vain?" Hakon asked desperately.

"Stand fast! His strength is failing! Once more, and his might will be broken!" Gormlaith said.

"His power crumbles - do not pause for breath!" Felldir commanded.

"Lok Vah Koor!" the four Shouted.

"Arrogant mortals! Your pride will be humbled!" Alduin roared, flying into view.

"For Skyrim!" the Dovahkiin bellowed.

The four rushed in, closing the distance between them and the great dragon. Alduin Shouted and the sky turned red and clouds began to swirl. Great rocks dropped from the sky. The Dovahkiin rolled to avoid one of them, and came up on Alduin's right flank. He swung his sword to hit the wing, but the great beast took to the air, the beating of his wings pushing the Dovahkiin to the ground. Gormlaith was on top of the dragon, and the Dovahkiin watched in horror as Alduin rolled, and her small body fell over the edge of the chasm. Her brother caught her by the hand, relinquishing his battleaxe to dive for her. "I will not lose you a second time," he said.

"Those who do not bow will be devoured!" Alduin yelled, landing in front of Felldir.

The Dovahkiin got up and helped Felldir. He rushed in at Alduin's tail and hit it. His sword set in, and the great dragon roared at the might of the blow. The Dovahkiin only had enough time to raise his shield before the gout of fire found it. A wing hit Felldir, and he fell, but Hakon and Gormlaith were rushing to the Dovahkiin's aid. They set many blows to Alduin, and he turned his fire to them. The Dovahkiin raised his sword, but realized why the dragon was unconcerned about him too late. The meteor blasted in front of the Dragonborn, and he fell back, dazed.

The Dovahkiin could not get up. His legs did not respond. He could only try desperately to reach for his sword. He looked up to see the battle and was filled with dread. The heroes were losing. Gormlaith lay unconscious, Hakon was swatted aside easily, and Felldir was hit by a mighty swing of the dragon's tail. With all the warriors dispatched, Alduin turned to the Last Dragonborn. "Know this before you die, mortal: I am Alduin. Most mighty of any in the World!"

The Dragonborn looked at his sword. He thought of how many he had killed with it. Why do I kill, he wondered as the great dragon loomed over him, opening his maw. Has fate led me here? No. Everything that has happened is my decision. This is my life. And I have the choice to do what I want with it. And I want to get up. Before Alduin could snap his jaws together, three Words of Power came forth from the Dovahkiin's lips. "Fus Ro Dah!"

Alduin stumbled back. Never had the dragon heard that Shout so powerfully, not even from another dovah. What power is this? he wondered.

"And I am Dovahkiin!" he said, getting up. The ground shook as he spoke. "I am the Last Dragonborn of the mortal races of Nirn, prophesized to slay Alduin, the World-Eater. It is my right to kill you! I was to die at Helgen, and had your coming been a moment later, I would have faced the headman's axe! Do you realize that you saved me, only to have me kill you, here at the end of all things?" A blast came from the Dovahkiin's mouth, hitting the dragon. The World-Eater felt weaker. "I lead the Companions of Jorrvaskr by right of glory, I am the Arch-Mage of the College of Winterhold, I am the leader of the Blades, I am the Listener for the Night Mother, I am a Nightingale of Nocturnal, and I am Dovahkiin!" Flakes began to burn off of Alduin. Another blast hit him, and he staggered back. "I have traveled the ancient land of Skyrim, and found the people to be worth fighting for. Don't you see? You cannot kill me, because I won't allow it. I stand for that world's existence, and you stand for its demise! I carry a weight that no other mortal could bear! I am the one that all dov fear! Your creator, Akatosh, created me to give mercy to your tyranny of the mortal races! Your time is over, and I will not allow you to torment this place more than you have already." Alduin had never known such power. This mortal was more powerful than anything he had ever known. His Thu'um were his words. They were not even in the language of the dovah, and yet Alduin felt that this power was greater than anything the dragons could say. He felt his soul leaving him as the Dovahkiin spoke. "You feel weak, do you not? And you do not know why! It is because I have found my Thu'um, and it is truth and existence! I am the last hope of those people! That child will not see you come over the mountain and herald the end of her life! No! I will not allow it! Without Elder Scroll or any other artifact of power, I banish you! I end you! You are nothing, and that is all! Begone, World-Eater! Nirn is safe and you are vanquished!"

Alduin shook violently. It was hard for the immortal one to realize that his life was, indeed, at an end. He had no knowledge of an end. He left the realm as a great explosion of light and a deafening roar that shook the walls of the Hall of Valor. A great energy poured from the explosion and flew into the sky. The Dovahkiin stood through it all. Through the verbal battle, his helmet had fallen off. For a moment, he stood catching his breath. He had Shouted Alduin apart.

Felldir, Hakon, and Gormlaith got up. They were weak, but alive. They all sat for a moment, not truly comprehending that Alduin was no more.

"Stand fast! The fell worm's death is ours at last, the light returns!" Hakon triumphantly exclaimed.

"Even here, where heroes throng, few can match this mighty deed. What glory! The gods themselves must envy us this well-earned honor!" Gormlaith praised.

Even Felldir was relieved. "Our ancient debt for Alduin's reprieve is now repaid - the long night has ended!" he said.

Then they all three faced the Dragonborn. "All hail the Dragonborn! Hail him with great praise!"

The Dovahkiin smiled. "Friends," he said slowly, " it is over. We are free of Alduin's wrath. The world of Nirn is safe, as is Sovngarde."

A voice came from behind. "You dropped this, Harbinger." The Dovahkiin thanked Kodlak and took his sword from the old man.

Then, another voice came. "I should think you would want this." The Dragonborn took his shield from the bridge guardian.

"That was a mighty deed! The doom of Alduin encompassed at last, and cleansed is Sovngarde of his evil snare. They will sing of this battle in Shor's hall forever. But your fate lies elsewhere. When you have completed your count of days, I may welcome you again, with glad friendship, and bid you join the blessed feasting," the guardian said.

"I should like to return to Skyrim and see Paarthurnax," the Dovahkiin said.

"Of course," the guardian replied, "Return now to Nirn. Nahl...Daal...Vus!"

The last image the Dragonborn had was of Kodlak facing the Hall of Valor and smiling, and the three warriors laughing in joy. The image faded, and the Dovahkiin felt the cold chill of Skyrim on his face.

He was at the Throat of the World. He beheld dozens of dragons flying and calling to one another. Some of them landed and bowed to him. He felt their words rather than hear them. They spoke one word, "Dovahkiin." An old grey dragon landed in front of the Dovahkiin.

"So, it is done. Aludin is dead. The Eldest is no more, he who came before all others, and has always been," Paarthurnax said.

"You don't sound very happy about it," the Dragonborn replied.

"Happy? No, I am not happy. My brother was once the son of my Father. Alduin was once the crown of our father Akatosh's creation. You did what was necessary. Alduin had flown far from the path of right action in his arrogance - the arrogance of his power. But I cannot celebrate his fall. I am dreadful at his fall. He was my brother once. This world will never be the same. Perhaps now you have some insight into the forces that shape the currents of Time. But I forget myself. Sorrow is a loyal friend. Melancholy is an easy trap for a dovah to fall into. You have won a mighty victory - one that will echo through all the ages of this world for those who have eyes to see. Savor your triumph, Dovahkiin. This is not the last of what you will write upon the currents of Time."

With that, the dragon picked leapt off the mountain and flew amongst his brethren, crying, "Goraan! Rout! I feel younger than I have in many an age."

A red dragon circled with Paarthurnax, and called out to the Dragonborn.

"Drem Yol Lok, Dovahkiin! Fare thee well!" Odahviing said.

The Dragonborn looked at all the dragons. He saw them free to live away from Alduin's rule. Some of them might even turn to the Way of the Voice. But, as for the Last Dragonborn, he took off his helmet and laid it down in the snow. He pulled out his sword and stuck it in the ground next to his helmet. His shield he leaned against his sword. Then, he turned away, and without looking back, walked down the Throat of the World, his steps leaving heavy footprints in the snow.