The Greybeards were so keen to the Thu'um that they could hear Words from miles away. With much practice, I too had honed what skills of the Dovah I had learned and became more connected to my second kin, so much that Arngeir had begun to think of me as an unsettling presence in High Hrothgar.

"Dovahkiin," He gently bowed to me. I wouldn't have noticed it if the ground hadn't shook when he spoke. I peeked over my book and barely registered the worried look that was plastered to his face. "I would like a word with you when you are free."

I masked my disdain with blankness, placing the ancient book down to give him my eyesight. "All for naught" a bitter voice surfaced as he towered over me oblivious that what I was attempting to convey was patience- kindness, even- with my actions. "Yes, Arngeir? Something troubles you." I left out how I knew, which only earned me a questioning raise of the brow.

"I've noticed what you've been reading." I blinked; momentarily stunned by the coolness of his voice even as another waft of nervousness flooded my nostrils. If I were not Dovah, I'd think he was here not to scold me, but to compliment me on my work. I would hope for the latter and bet the former was more probable. "I have reason to believe you have become absorbed in the study of the Dovah.. Unhealthily so."

I traced over the slightly pointed canines with my tongue, examining the look on his face while trying to steady a counter to his words. "I fell short in my last encounter with a dragon, which cost me dearly. I must know more of them to defend humankind." I spoke in earnest, only leaving out things like trying to expand my skill and most importantly, the draw my second kin had to me.

"That I understand. But the borderline obsession will not be tolerated. Despite your Dovah blood and soul, you are also a woman. Do not lose your humanity, child."

"I.. I understand. I'm sorry you feel that I am compulsively clinging to my one bit of heritage because I lost everything else. I assure you, I do nothing of the sort."

I grimace to play it off, shrinking deep into my seat to feign shame. A hand nearly hidden by blue-black tassels rubbed my shoulder to comfort with the soft-spoken reassurance, "Hin fen haalvut krongrah."

"Krongrah los munax."

"Onikaan los se osos." A long silence pursues before I am dismissed with only a nod, forbidden to study. I had been thrown back into the wilderness of Skyrim and in search of power once more.

Now atop a snowy mountain far from the Greybeards watchful eye and the safety of Hrothgar, I think silently to myself what Arngeir tried to tell me. Maybe he would prove right.

The blind instinctual rage, sharpened senses and powerful drive of the Dov never came to me subtle- it was all so sudden, and sometimes violently that my soul called me to action. And finally, keener more, the 'mere whispers' Arngeir spoke of were something I could hear- but they weren't whispers, they were beckoning chants in Dragon Tongue from far away. I had done something right in my studies.

There atop mountains the chant became louder and vivid enough to make out the words. I begin to memorize them, feel the grip they held on me, as if compelling me upwards towards something that sang a darker tune which I neglected to hear in my Dovah-like lust for absolute control over every advantage this body would yield. Then the earth trembles at the top step. I merely froze but a second to smell the old dirt beginning to stir before palming my black and crimson Daedric blade, the notches vocally protesting release from its sheathe. I muse at the sight beheld upon the giant rock and ice covered caps of mountains that stretched upwards before cautiously moving towards the center of the clearing.

This was a burial mound, I felt it before it was confirmed by the stirring dirt inside a stone circle. Past the steps was the Word Wall with a treasure chest to the right and a Nordic-style above ground coffin sat not far to the left. Probably a Dragon Priest. I ignored it and continued closer to the mound. I knew the Word Wall would wake the Dragon if it was still alive, I might as well put it at rest now properly. Seeing the grave had given an unusual cold feeling. "Nax do ney joore ahrk dov." With a mournful look I drew my blade and pulled it across my palm. Nirn seemed to swallow the blood in thanks, blessing me with a second of calm before rattling in warning. I ceased the moment and ascend to the object of my desire- The Word Wall. The treasure chest would remain untouched. It was an offering to the Dovah buried here that was not mine to take. That was a trivial thing to me, something that held little meaning or power in bloody battle. The World Wall, on the other hand, was of great importance.

A soothing light began its wash over my flesh, mending the nicks and cuts gathered from my journey upwards and warming the insides, the slice on my hand mending until it no longer exists. It was contentment only this could give, a great pleasure nothing else worldly could bring. The chants were yet muffled cries against my ears, absorbing the power it held and heightening the senses into a euphoria of shades and sounds that joore could not even dream of, nor fathom. There, triumphant I stood and said my praise before descending the icy steps and beginning to leave when I heard the thump of stone hitting ice. I turn while pulling my faithful shield from my back, standing in defense against the Priest I had awoken. Ice swirls around one lifeless hand, the other clutching a golden staff.

As soon as I readied myself, the ward ignited and a volley of three ice spikes were sent hurtling towards me and threatening to break my focus. My arm wavered from the impact but with my feet slightly parted and knees bent, I kept balance. I waited until a pause before slowly closing in on the Dragon Priest, my knuckles white from the death-grip hold on the shield. My throat closed around words and called them to nirn. "Feim zii gron." I watched myself begin to fade into the color of the snow, almost transparent, as I stalked closer- his magic running out as I circled him. I only had one shot. We made a dance of it, me trying to get behind the corpse to strike and him casting spells and dizzying from turning. I paused and eyed him, thinking over my plan before lunging at him with blade drawn. I knocked the staff from his hand with my own and became solid instantly- slicing his hand off. With momentum picked up I spun and swung again- the head flying towards the direction I came.

After retrieving the mask and placing the staff on my back under Spellbreaker, I began my descent only to hear a heartbeat far bigger than mine. Dovah.

The once distant white beast of old was getting close, stretching through the expanses of open sky I wished to one day soar and ripping through the clouds that didn't move from the sheer force of the wind the wings cast off. I would not attack it, not unless provoked. I slid my blade into sheathe but instinctively clutched the pommel, placing my right fist over chest and bowing my head. The beast fluttered down low as if to watch me more closely.

"Dovah salutations from a joore? Nirn is madness indeed. You are the first of your kind to do such, I give you credit there, but it is insulting all the same. Your kind does not deserve to use the greeting reserved for mighty Dov."

"I didn't insult, zeymah." I reply coolly, opening my eyes but leaving my head low.

"Brother? I am nothing of the sort. The ignorance of you!" The beast involuntarily gnashes its teeth with the roar, smelling the air before speaking again. "..Yet you tell truth. I smelt female Dovah from miles away, as it is a rarity among us. I did not expect it to lead to a human. So tell me, why do you trot in the form of a joor? Are you a scout or are you afraid to mate?"

Death, I had realized, was beginning to be quite tangible, perhaps even desired and infinitely easier than recent predicaments. If I were to admit who I was, I would likely have to kill the Dovah, something which I hadn't wanted to ever do again. Especially since this one was being quite kind. If I wanted to lie, I needed to act the part of a dragon. But then I would have to transform into said being (obviously a shout I didn't know) and take flight. My words betrayed my logic, "I am Dovahkiin."

He looks almost warily before giving a snort. "You are a disgrace to your own kind, half-breed. You are to kill Alduin so I will not let you pass. Your honesty serves you, though, and so I will fight fair. No shouts, then. I will give quick painless death with talons."

I give a grim look and tip my head to the sky to show my neck, something signifying trust among kin. "I do not wish you any harm, zeymah. My blood is more important to me than my flesh."

"You are still the Dovahkiin! You play politics with the Jarls, steal the souls of your kin and befriend the inferior, ignoring your blood until it suits you."

"Because I must! And I have never killed my kind unless provoked. What am I to do, storm the Holds and maim the people?"

The beast's nostrils flair as it closes in on me, baring teeth show pearly even against the blue-white scales. "You betray your kind by living in squalor and allowing the land to be ruined by their ignorance as they wage war. You are Dovah first and Joor second. There is no excuse."

The words stung like daggers tearing through bare flesh and twisting, a wound left to fester and be infected before being stabbed again. "I do what I need to survive. I am but one person."

"You are nivahriin."

"Zu'u onik."

"Talk is trivial." The dragon adopts a more guttural tone, his eyes flaring in contempt as he stands once more. "Draw your blade, Dragonborn. Let us do battle."

"If there is no way to persuade you, I have no choice." The Daedric blade no longer protests it's freedom, as if knowing what is to happen. It has become intrinsic. A deep exhale with woeful eyes and into position- invigorated by the Word Wall still but sadness suffuses. "A name, brother."

"Faasnudoviir."

Without another word the Dovah lashes out with it's tail as the wings sprawl out to compensate a shift in weight, shadowing the ice-hardened ground. I outmaneuver all but the last and fiercest strike- sending me sliding backwards towards the wall with barely enough time to steel myself for impact. Less than a groan escapes gritted teeth that no longer chatter from the cold like they did years ago, my flesh now durable and withstanding to all but the heavy hits, no longer bruising skin over small falls. "Gather yourself, joor briinah."

The creature did not lie when he said a fair fight. I exhale slowly to ease the tension building in the shoulders, the hot coiled stomach and burning back. My jaw tightens and chest rises, pouncing from the wall like a Sabre cat and jabbing out the pommel of my blade before meeting steel on scales when the beast falters, giving time to strike out and slice the semi-soft abdomen. He roars and the ground shakes in protest, teeth clench as great jaws snap at me in bale. The claws snatch me in my stupor of disorientation, lifting me high and baring teeth at his triumph. No matter how much I pry the grip stays tight around my waist, threatening to break bones, Spellbreaker being bent and formed to my back. Then, a shudder as the Dovah presses the other free hand's talons to my bare throat. "Death will be swift, young one. I free you from this treacherous body."

Slight worry and another breath, trying to steady the sword in my hand only draws attention and he disarms it with strong grip around my wrist. "The will to live is a powerful thing." I make only a hoarse groan as I loosen my hand just enough to form a spell, sending the blade whirling back towards my hand. Another breath, it flies and hits its mark, making the claws loosen as the beast tries to grab the steel buried to the hilt in its chest. I form another attack quickly, fire blazing from my palm and close enough to my own skin to create uncomfortable heat even in the unforgivable cold. It stumbles and I fidget free- grabbing my sword from the warm body and pushing off of it. I get little air before smacking the ground. The breath being knocked out of me doesn't stop me from leaning up on my elbows to watch the dragon begin a slide down the slope.

"I will not fail!" Just before the dragon had gone down, it grabbed me by the leg and pulled me down the jagged mountain.

**Hin fen haalvut krongrah= You will touch victory.

**Krongrah los munax= Victory is cruel.

**Onikaan los se osos= Wisdom is of the same.

**Nax do ney joore ahrk dov. Drem, fron = Cruelty of both mortals and Dragonkind. Peace, kin.

**Zeymah= Brother

**Nivahriin= Cowardly

**Zu'u onik= I am wise.

**Faasnudoviir= Fearless of Dying

**Briinah= Sister