After searching the surrounding area thoroughly to make certain that Dovahkiin had not simply been thrown back by the magical forces that had mysterious gathered, Paarthurnax stood perched on top of the dragon wall looking down upon the Greybeards that he had summoned to the mountain's peak. But no trace of Dovahkiin was found nor of Alduin and then finally came to the conclusion that the two of them had truly vanished.

After hearing his explanation of the events that had recently taken place Arngeir, the only one of the four Greybeards capable of speech without using the Thu'um, spoke.

"So the Dragonborn is gone leaving no trace of him behind," he mused. "Please, explain again to me what happened here, Master," he asked still unable to wrap his mind around how such a spectacle could have happened.

"All I saw was Dovahkiin deep in battle with Alduin. Then a pillar of light opened up to the skies, and once it diminished they were both gone," Paarthurnax's deep voice rumbled over them.

Arngeir sighed deeply, while his fellow Greybeards simply nodded in reply to their Master's words. The others, Borri, Einarth and Wulfgar, voices were so powerful that they rarely spoke because so much as a single word from any one of them had enough power to shake the exterior of High Hogarth, their sanctuary that sat just short of the peak of the Throat of the World, the tallest mountain in all of Skyrim.

"This is a troubling matter indeed, but why was the Dragonborn here? I thought he went to Sovngarde to pursue Alduin. How did they come to be here?"

Paarthurnax had been wondering this as well, since he had seen Dovahkiin with his own eyes enter the gateway to Sovngarde. "Alduin must have brought the two of them here. Perhaps he wasn't as strong as he thought he would be in Sovngarde."

"You may be right," Arngeir agreed as the other Greybeards shook their heads in agreement. For what other force would be powerful enough to bring both entities here? "Have you perhaps witnessed this type of phenomenal before?" he asked knowing that their Master was as old as time itself.

Paarthurnax thought on his answer, "I have seen many kinds of magic performed in my lifetime, but none such as this."

"Paarthurnax!"

Hearing his name Paarthurnax turned his gaze up towards the heavens to see a familiar red dragon circling above.

"Odahviing," he returned as his fellow dovah began his descent to land a short distance away from himself and the Greybeards.

"I heard the Shouts from halfway across Skyrim. I came as fast as my wings allowed," Odahviing explained with great haste eager to receive answers to his questions. "What has happened here? What was the source of that eerie glow?" Like Paarthurnax he too saw the great pillar of light even with the distance between him and the mountain at the time it occurred.

"It is Dovahkiin, Odahviing. He and Alduin have vanished without a trace."

"I shall go after them," Odahviing announced.

"Don't be so rash Odahviing!" Paarthurnax snapped. "Did you not listen to a word I just said? We don't even know what has happened let alone where the two have gone. For now we must decide on our next course of action if we are to find and help Dovahkiin."

Paarthurnax knew that Odahviing was the rashest of all dovahs, which was his downfall at having being captured by Dovahkiin in Whiterun so that he might find the whereabouts of Alduin. Odahviing witnessing Dovahkiin's Thu'um in the event had come to respect the mortal of his strength and mastery of the dovah shouts.

Odahviing was restless, "We must assist Dovahkiin in his fight against Alduin. There is no time to sit here and do nothing. Not when there is something to be done. It is of the utmost importance that we go after him."

"And just where do you expect us to go when we have no leads to follow?" Paarthurnax countered. Odahviing was eons old yet he still had a long ways to go to master the art of patience. You would think with his immortality that he would take the time to practice it.

Arngeir stepped in. "Please, calm yourself, Odahviing. Yes, it is of great importance that we save the Dragonborn from whatever misfortune has befallen him. But it is also important for us to know the cause of this phenomenal and the reasons beyond it if we are to be of any help."

Odahviing growled in irritation. "Patience has never been my strong suit."

"How well I know of that, Odahviing," Paarthurnax agreed. "But you are right on one point-we must act fast if we are to help Dovahkiin."

"I agree," Arngeir said. "Might I suggest that a visit to the College of Winterhold is of the necessity for our current predicament? The mages there will most likely have a better understanding of what has triggered the events here. They not only have the knowledge, but a large collection of resources and a wide web of connections that we are just not able to provide."

The Greybeards themselves had little connection to those that lived their lives down on the land below them, but that is the price they paid for their solitude to live their lives by the way of The Voice. But the Dragonborn they knew was a member of the College and that he had friends and contacts there. Surely when they explained their situation the mages would help them solve this mystery that they found themselves with.

"Then let us be off," announced Odahviing with excitement. "I will take you to Winterhold myself. We cannot afford to waste any time."

The Dragonborn began to stir waking to the ringing in his ears, an impossibly annoying sound, that he wished would stop already. He was still in the dark, his eyelids heavy refusing to open at his command. But soon the ringing in his mind began to form into words and he was able to make out the sounds of voices and distant barking. As his mind began to clear a little more he started focusing more on the voices.

"Wonder what he ran into to get all beat up like that?" It was a man's voice with a bit of an accent to it, but none that he could place to the many different races that occupied Skyrim. It wasn't a thick accent like the Nords possessed but more along the lines of Imperial.

"Beat up?", he thought. Yes, he remembered now. He had been fighting Alduin on the Throat of the World and then… nothing. He remembered nothing of what had transpired next. Was Alduin dead or he himself? Was he in Sovngarde? All that he remembered of the battle was a blinding flash of light before falling into darkness. But he didn't feel the harsh bitter cold of the mountain as he would expect to feel. Instead he felt warmth, a warmth that he gladly welcomed. From that he could smell the smoky scent of wood burning and could hear crackling in its hearth. There was also something soft underneath him perhaps an animal hide of sorts. There was the slight rustling of leaves, sounds of birds quietly singing their songs and crickets chirping along with various other sounds around him. Wherever he was, he sure was not on the Throat of the World.

Again the voices spoke. "Maker, only knows. This young man should just be thankful that he is still breathing." This voice was older and wiser than the other. It was the voice of a woman strong in her words, but gentle all the same. But what was this Maker she spoke of?

"Is he going to be alright, Wynne?" he heard the man from before ask.

Wynne, that must be the name of the woman that had just spoken of him. "I've done all I can for the moment. The rest is up to him."

So he was alive and that only meant that Alduin was alive as well. He had to get to him while he was still weak. He had to slay the World Eater while he had the chance before he escaped from his grasp once again.

"What a strange looking man though," he heard a woman with a thick accent wonder out loud. It was like no other he heard before from his travels. "The armor he wears is unlike any I have seen before."

His armor. He couldn't feel the weight of it on him, where had it gotten to? If he was going to face Alduin once more he definitely needed the protection of his armor to shield him against the dragon's mighty shouts of fire and ice. He tried to move his limbs, but a sharp pain spiked up his leg causing him to grunt out in surprise.

"Hush, Leliana, he's waking up."

The Dragonborn opened his eyes to see an elderly woman kneeling over him. She was dressed in robes and immediately saw that she was a mage. But her robes looked to be too thin to be able to protect her from Skyrim's harsh environment. Would she not be freezing from the cold that she would come to find in her travels? Could she be from the College? If so, then he had never once seen her around the vicinity and he was the Arch-mage of all people.

The woman looked at him with worry in her startling blue eyes, while gently pressing a hand to his chest to prevent him from sitting upright. "It is best for you not to move, stranger. You still have many injuries that I have not yet been able to heal."

But he didn't care about his injuries. At the moment he only cared about one thing and one thing only.

"Where is he?" he asked hoarsely, his throat nearly bone dry from lack of hydration. "Where is Alduin?"

"Calm yourself, lad," she tried to sooth him. "Who is this Alduin you speak of?"

The Dragonborn gave a humorless laugh coughing as he did. Was this real? Was he truly speaking to someone that did not know the most feared name in all of Skyrim?

"Is that a joke?" he rasped, "I speak of none other than the World Eater himself, Alduin. There is not a person in all of Skyrim that has not heard his name."

The man who was somewhat out of his line of vision as he stared up at the tree canopy above him spoke again. "Skyrim? Are you sure he is alright, Wynne, and not a little loopy in the head?"

The woman simply ignored the comment and only focused on her patient. "You are in Ferelden, dear boy. Have you no memory of where you are?"

Ferelden? Where was that? Not once on all the maps that he had poured over in his travels did that name appear. "I don't know what your game is here, lady, but I have no time for your mind games. I know there is no place called Ferelden in Skyrim or in the entire Empire nor Tamriel. Now tell me where you put my armor and I'll be on my way." He sat up despite the old woman's protests causing him to sharply breath in as he felt the true extent of his injuries.

"If I were you I would be a little more grateful to the woman who had probably just saved your miserable life. " He turned his attention to the owner of the voice and he saw a young fair haired woman with bright golden eyes. The way she dressed was barely modest and reminded him of the Foresworn and how they clothed themselves harshly with pelts from wild game. But if the words she spoke were true and this woman beside him really did save his life then he owed her more than he could afford.

The elder woman steeled her look, "I speak the truth, boy." And the Dragonborn knew she did for he could see the truth there in her eyes.

"I can tell that you do speak true. Then I owe you a debt of gratitude, miss. Forgive me I am just… confused." His mind was still somewhat fogged and his vision a little murky. What a state he was in.

"It's alright," her gaze softened, "but before you go running off I highly suggest that you lie here and rest awhile before you do any moving around. Regain your strength; you still have a few minor wounds and a broken leg." A broken leg? Since when did that happen to him?

"Aye," he agreed reluctantly, but didn't lie back down. He would rest enough till his sight cleared and then he would take his leave. He couldn't afford to postpone going after Alduin.

Looking at his surroundings the Dragonborn could see that he clearly wasn't in Skyrim. It was night hour and the evergreens that covered this land blocked his view of the dark sky above. Green leafy trees were few in Skyrim. The environment here was far too warm even for summer standards of the typically cold northern land he was used to. As he looked around the encampment the Dragonborn saw that he was in the company of a traveling party of five individuals. Two men and three women. By the looks of their clothing and gear they didn't look like your typical farm travelers going off to sell their crops at market. These folk appeared to be adventurers of sorts for they wore armor and carried staffs, swords and other weaponry on their persons. Whether they meant him any harm or not remained unclear at the moment.

"Who are you all?" he asked seeing a rather large man a short distance away staring at him with suspicion.

The elder mage spoke, "I am Wynne," she introduced, "This is Leliana," directing his attention to the bright red head girl next to her. "Over there, by the fire, is Sten and Morrigan," the large man that wouldn't take his eyes off him and the Foresworn looking woman that addressed him earlier.

"And I'm Alistair," the Dragonborn turned to see a young man with spiky dirty-blond hair smile in greeting at him.

The Dragonborn was about to reply when a large dog suddenly got in his face panting heavily with its large tongue lolled out.

"And that's Bane," Alistair said. "Sorry, he's just really friendly. He was the one who found you, actually. So, now, just who might you be?"

Guess it was his time to introduce himself to these folk. "My name is Kydin."

"Well, Kydin, do you remember how you got yourself in such a sore state?"

Kydin remembered all too well, "I was in battle, but I do not know how I came to be here," he sighed in frustration. "You say that I am in Ferelden. Is that the name of this land?"

"Yes," the woman Wynne answered, "it is the name of the country that you are in."

That knowledge didn't help Kydin's situation at all, "Then I am a lot further away from home than I had thought," he said mostly to himself.

"You mentioned the word "Skyrim" before. I take it that is the name of your homeland?" she asked.

"Aye."

"I have never heard of such a place," Alistair commented. "It must be very far away if we have never heard of it."

"More than you know", Kydin thought. That light on the Throat of the World-just where exactly had it taken him? And what had been the cause of it? There were too many questions and not enough answers.

Wynne noticed the trouble look on his face, "And you don't remember coming to this land?"

"I recall little," Kydin admitted. "All I remember was seeing a light and then complete darkness." The more he thought about it the more confused he became about his whole situation. If he wasn't in Tamriel, was he even anywhere in of all of Nirn? And, if not, then was he somehow in another world or another plain of existence? Thinking about the possibility made Kydin think back to when he had read about the Oblivion Crisis from two hundred years ago, about the Hero of Kvatch. In the records they said that the Hero had traveled to multiple plains of Oblivion to stop the Daerdra from destroying the world. He would have to take this into consideration as well as all the other possible theories and ideas that were swimming in his mind. But right now Kydin had to leave for no matter where he was he still had Alduin to take care of. If he himself was brought here by that eerie light then no doubt it had brought Alduin here as well.

"I thank you for all that you have done, but I now I must be on my way. I have delayed long enough as it is."

"Are you crazy? You are still injured. At least have a little common sense," Alistair tried to reason with him. "You do have a broken leg, after all."

Wynne agreed, "Please, Kydin, I urge you to rest for the night at least or you risk opening your wounds again. There is still plenty I haven't been able to heal."

"That will be of no issue for me," Kydin replied for he felt that he had regained a small amount of strength to do what he needed to do. Casting a simple healing spell on himself he felt the warmth of his magic flow over him and heal whatever broken bones or torn muscle tissue that Wynne hadn't been able to treat. The silence that he received from the others made him question whether or not displaying his talents in front of these strangers was the best idea.

"You're a mage," Wynne gaped.

"So are you," Kydin stated plainly as he proceeded to stand up testing his now fully mended leg.

"You don't look like any mage I've ever seen," the redhead said.

"I'll second that," Alistair agreed, "Don't you all wear robes with the long skirts?"

"Well, I don't know about you, but I prefer to rely on a heavy set of armor to protect me than a flimsy piece of fabric." Though many mages at the College wore their own set of robes most of them were enchanted to at least provide some protection to their wearers. Kydin would wear them if he remained at the College for a time, but when he was out exploring the land he always relied on a good set of armor to help him survive his travels.

Alistair thought on his words for a moment before replying, "Hmmm, good point."

"I am a lot of things, a warrior mostly." Kydin explained. "A mage just happens to be one of them."

"So you are just going to leave?" Wynne asked obviously concerned. "But your injuries…"

"Have been taken care of," he tried to reassure her though she didn't look convinced. If only his status back at the College would mean anything to her then perhaps she wouldn't doubt his abilities so. "You need not worry over my well being any longer. Now my armor, if you please."

Alistair studied his condition before sighing in defeat, "Sure," he said going over to one of the pitched tents, "but about your armor…" he drifted off as he lifted up a piece of armor that appeared to be Kydin's chest plate. "Well, I'm no expert, but it seems to be pretty well damaged."

He was right as Kydin looked at the piece. It was misshaped and dented in various places. Some of the scales had even fallen off to his disappointment. Decorative pieces that gave the armor a menacing and hardened combat look such as the horns and various sizes of teeth that he had salvaged from the corpses of dragons were either broken or badly chipped. If the main chest plate was in this bad of condition Kydin could only imagine the state the rest of his gear was in. But surely it wasn't in this condition when he had been battling Alduin on top of the Throat of the World or maybe he just hadn't notice it in the heat of battle. Whatever happened it sadden Kydin greatly for this set was the first set of Dragon armor he had ever crafted with skilled perfection and he was mighty proud of it. It showed just how far he had come in his journey over the past year and how fierce of a warrior and how skilled of a blacksmith he had become.

Kydin sighed heavily as Alistair handed it to him. "Aye, you're right," his armor was in great need of some mending, "but I will take what protection it can still provide. Tell me, are you lot familiar with dragons?"

"Hmm, let's see, big flying reptilian creatures with sharp teeth? Yes, I'd say we know of them," Alistair said his voiced laced with humor.

Kydin was somewhat relieved that at least this world wasn't void of dragons. It would save him from having to explain what the giant beast was. "Have you seen a pure black one recently or have a least heard one nearby?"

Wynne looked at him a bit worried. Perhaps she was just wondering how his injuries where faring and not the fact that he was thinking about going up against a dragon in his condition. "No, the area around here has been pretty quiet. Nothing but the sound of songbirds and crickets filling the air tonight."

That's right, it was night-time. Kydin thought that he must be losing track of time for he couldn't remember what time of day it was in his last moments on the Throat of the World. "Just when did you find me?"

Wynne looked thoughtfully before answering, "A few hours ago at most. We found you here just an hour or two before sunset."

That didn't bode well for Kydin. If he had been unconscious for a handful of hours then there would be no way he could track down Alduin now. It was too dark out with no telling exactly what creatures roamed this land and not to mention what stalked the shadows of the night. He would be walking around blind and his armor, his means of protection, was unfortunately in horrible condition.

"I see," he mused. "Figures, he would be long gone by now. That or maybe he isn't here at all." It was a possibility to consider, but not one that he would be taking chances with.

Lost in his own thoughts Kydin didn't notice how much he was staring off into space until Alistair spoke "Sooooooo," he stretched trying to lessen the awkward silence that had settled, "Is this dragon a part of some sort of quest you're on?"

Kydin thought on his question for a moment. Alduin had escaped from him twice now so, no, this was more than just a quest. Perhaps at one point at the beginning when he was unsure about his role as Dragonborn and what it meant to be that, but now it was something a little more personal.

"Quest?" he repeated out loud releasing a mocking laugh more for himself than anything. "No, I wouldn't call it that exactly," he paused, "More like a dragon hunt."