How much time had passed I had no way of knowing. I glanced up at the sky every chance I got, trying to figure out where the sun could be through the dark smoke and clouds. I began to wonder if this was how it always was on this strange island, if there was ever a day where the sun shone through to brighten the land. I had my fair share of cloudy weather in Skyrim, there were many days covered in fog and rainy weather, or snow as half of Skyrim was covered with it. But never before had I seen such a thick blanket of darkness covering the sky the way it did here. I took another step forward, my foot sinking into the ash on the ground as I was pushed forward by the men who I still had no clue as to what they could be. There was only four of them now, all dressed in the same robes and mask, the sailors were left behind on the ship. I hoped desperately the ship had not sailed from the island yet, if I could get away from these men and return to the ship I would have a chance at getting back to Skyrim. Skyrim… my home since birth. I dedicated my life to keeping that land safe from any evil that dare threaten it, but now I was lost far away in a strange land with no knowledge of how to get back. The way these men spoke of their master and how I would be the one to free him, I knew deep down that this could mean my end. I looked up once more at the smoke-covered sky. Would I die here, in this dark, ashen place far from my home?

I was interrupted from my thoughts as a distant roar sounded from overhead. I could recognize the sound of that roar anywhere, I had killed many of the creatures who roared like that myself. One of the cultists grabbed my arm to stop me from walking further, all four of them looked to the sky.

"Dragons," one of them muttered, "we should find cover."

The cultists looked around, I thought they may have looked nervous as we stood in an open field of ash, rocks, and dead trees with no shelter in sight, but I could not be sure through their expressionless masks.

"You fear the very thing that serves our Master?" the cultist with the familiar voice retorted, "No, we will keep moving, He will keep us safe."

I turned my head to look at the masked man, hoping he would see the questions as if they were written upon my face. He gave no response, if he looked at me I could not tell, he only turned and continued to walk on through the ashen land. The only information I gathered from what the men said only lead to more questions. The dragons served the cultists' master? Impossible, the only one the dragons ever served was the World-Eater, and I killed him myself the previous year, I saw him die with my own eyes. There was no way he could ever return, his soul was shattered… I remembered what the cultist said, speaking of his master's soul being trapped. Could it be…? No, no that was not possible.

The mountains were much closer now, the ash on the ground grew thinner as we continued to walk, grass now emerging through. The cultists seemed to grow restless, moving quicker as they kept their eyes on the mountains ahead. They became more rough as they pulled me along, growing impatient with my resistance. I had no way to fight these four men as I was bound, but I pulled back, trying to slow down the progress half hoping the dragon we heard would fly down and attack. As we grew closer to our destination I grew more anxious, I didn't know what awaited at the temple they spoke of, but if it was really something that even the dragons bowed to, it could be far worse than I ever imagined.

A freezing wind brushed past my face. As I looked ahead I could see large glaciers sticking out of the mountains, reminding me much of the northern region of Skyrim, just as the Cultist said it would. The ground felt cool on my feet, I glanced down to see the Grass we walked upon was no longer covered in ash, but snow. The familiar feeling of walking through snow gave me some comfort as we approached the mountains, but this comfort was short-lived as we turned onto a beaten path, and what I saw made my blood run cold as the snow beneath me. There was something familiar resting on the ground covered in ash and snow, boney wings jetted out, twisted in unnatural ways. The more I looked at it the more I made out the odd structure of the legs and neck, then I saw a skull. A dragon skull. My eyes widened as we continued up the path, that was not the only one. We came upon steps leading upwards, two strangely-shaped columns stood on each side of the stairs. As we reached the top another skeleton caught my eye, two more, five more, ten more, the ground was littered with the bones of long dead dragons. Hundreds of the beasts had come to this place and died. Who, or what, could have been capable of such a feat? I knew with the power I had I was capable of destroying dragons, but this… so many… how was it possible?

Whatever lie inside the temple was powerful, very powerful. I could not let it be set free unto the world, I had to get far away. At once I pulled back, yanking myself out of the hands of one of the cultists. Two more jumped at me, grabbing my arms and shoulders trying to hold me in place as I pulled and struggled to escape, to go in the opposite direction of the temple. I flailed and tried to hit them with my bound hands but to no avail, the cultist who first held me in place pulled out his dagger and struck down towards my head with the hilt. The force of the hit caused me to stagger, a loud ringing exploded into my head as my vision blurred, but I did not lose consciousness. My head felt heavy and my body weak, I would have fallen if not for the two cultists holding me up.

"Careful!" The cultist that seemed to be leading the group yelled, his voice riddled with frustration and concern. "Keep your grip on her, we can't risk any delays, not when we're so close."

The two men holding me now pulled me along, their hands on both my arms and shoulders, making sure there was no way for me to struggle anymore on the way up the steps. Though now I felt groggy and exhausted, I kept my head up to get a look at the surroundings and where we were going. There were archways we now passed under, resembling the archways outside of ancient nordic tombs that spotted Skyrim's landscapes. Perhaps we weren't so far from Skyrim after all…

I noticed something else around the columns and archways, wooden poles, staircases, ladders, when an unexpected sound reached my ears.

Tink tink tink

The distant sound of hammers on stone. I looked around for the source of the sounds, it seemed to be coming from all around me, from the columns and archways and from the large structure ahead that came into view. It was unlike any temple or tomb I had ever seen before, large and circular, columns on the top towering ominously over the land. The stone that formed it was black, giving it the appearance of being nothing more than a silhouette against the backdrop of the dark sky.

"Here in His shrine," a whisper reached my ear. I looked to the column besides me to find the source of sounds. There stood a Dunmer, carving away at the stone muttering phrases I could not make sense of.

"Here do we toil," I looked ahead at the temple as we began to climb the final flight of stairs.

"That we might remember," I could hear more voices now, the hammering grew more frequent.

"By night we reclaim," We reached the top of the temple walls, I could see men all around us working away at the temple, all quietly chanting.

"What by day was stolen."

What did any of this mean? The clanging of the hammers just kept going, their soft voices filling the air in a constant rhythm, not a single sound ceased or changed at the entrance of the cultist or the dragonborn. I caught sight of Nords working among them, a small bubble of hope growing amidst the confusion. But not even they took notice of their own kind being pulled into this Divine forsaken temple they were building.

"Far from ourselves."

There were more stairs that led down to the center of the temple where there was a dome with a design far different from the nordic looking columns. Something seemed be be inside it, although I couldn't make out what it was, I imagined it was something terrible, something that could somehow be tied to the one these people called their Master.

The cultists' grip only tightened as they led me down into the dome, where I could see the structure that lie inside. It was not what I expected at all, only a single pillar stood at the center of this temple. Other than the designs carved into the center of the pillar, it didn't have much of a shape to it, and neither did it seem to serve any purpose. I didn't understand how this pillar could be related to the rest of this place or have any ties to what was happening, but yet it made me feel… off. I felt drawn to it, but at the same time I wanted to get as far away from it as possible.

"He grows ever near to us."

I found myself at the center of the temple at last, staring up at this pillar. More cultist had come, they were talking among themselves, but I did not hear. My gaze remained glued to the structure, my senses closed to anything going on around me. It seemed to somehow… call me. It felt like everything I ever did was just so I could find my way here, to this shrine. I don't remember raising my bound hands towards it, but I could feel the cold stone on my fingertips, I could feel my mind slipping away in a sort of darkness as I touched it.

At the back of my head I thought I could hear yelling, perhaps someone telling me to stop, but that didn't matter. Something else filled the darkness in my mind, or rather, someone.

"I grow ever near to you… Dragonborn"