Thanks to everyone who's read the story so far! Here's chapter two, and at last, it's time to meet the main character, and be introduced to the Dragonhearts.
CHAPTER TWO – KIN OF THE SKY
Two steel swords sliced through the air, the sunlight flaring off the polished blades. With a whirr of wind, they swept over the Khajiit girl's head, very nearly clipping a few tufts of black fur from the tips of her ears. She let out a snarl and sprang backwards, her feet sinking into thick white snow. She stood lightly, lashing her tail back and forth, her fingers clenched around the hilt of her own blade, waiting for her opponent's next move. Her eyes scoured his face, waiting for the slightest sign that would tell her that he was about to move. The tiniest blink or intake of breath would betray him.
She saw his gaze drop towards her hand, and a second later his swords were plunging towards the fist that held her blade. Had she not anticipated the move and twisted aside at the last possible moment, he would have disarmed her easily. But his weapons missed her, cutting harmlessly through air and snow, and the Khajiit took advantage of the opening to lash out towards his neck. He saw the blow coming and reeled backwards, his crimson eyes widening a little.
The Khajiit breathed in deeply, summoning her training to the forefront of her mind. Time and time again she had been told to let no opportunity be wasted. Right now, the Dunmer man was off balance, exposed. She would have no better chance than this. She took a step forwards and punched her blade towards his chest. But again he moved too quickly, recovering just in time to block her strike and knock her weapon aside. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his second sword swinging down towards her and turned her head, ready to lift up her weapon and parry.
Then something hit her legs with enough force to make her stumble backwards, stretching out her tail behind her to give her balance. But at the same moment she was trying to duck under the blow she now had no time to block, and a second kick was all it took to knock her down onto her back. The Dark Elf's blades cut down neatly, flicking her sword out of her hand, and placed his weapons against her neck. The Khajiit's eyes squeezed shut as she felt the cold metal push through her fur and touch the soft skin underneath. She knew what was coming. With a low groan, she waited.
'For the hundredth time, Sha. Be aware of every part of my body, not just my weapons!'
The Khajiit sighed heavily. 'I know, I know.'
'You know now. But you didn't know a moment ago, when it mattered. If I'd actually been trying to hurt you, you'd be dead.'
'I know that, too.' Sha opened her bright amber eyes and lifted her head up from the snow. 'But if this had been an actual battle, I'd have used the Voice, and then you'd be dead.'
The Dunmer chuckled quietly, sheathed his swords, and extended a hand out to his pupil. Sha grasped it and let him pull her to her feet. 'Your footwork is coming along nicely,' he told her. 'And you're fast, much faster than I am. You've got good eyes when it comes to spotting openings, and you never let one go by. But you need to be aware of the fact that your enemy has weapons other than his sword, or axe, or mace, or whatever it is he's using.'
Sha nodded slowly, her ears pricked. 'Their feet.'
'That was what I used, yes. But I could have used my fists or my head. If I had been a Khajiit or Argonian, I might have used my tail. In fact, you should use yours more. Use every advantage you have over your opponent.'
'Except for the Voice.'
Ilien grinned and shook his head. 'Not on this occasion, no.' Seeing the argument forming on her lips, he held up one blue-grey skinned hand. 'Sha, don't start. This is sword practise, not Voice practise. We're working on your technique with a blade. In an actual battle, yes, the Voice is useful. But right now we're using swords only.'
Sha knew that he was right, but she wasn't a Khajiit who led anything go easily. 'But wouldn't that help me to learn when to tie in Shouts with actual swordplay?'
'You can ask your mother about that.' Ilien's crimson eyes were glittering with amusement.
'But Ma doesn't even use swords. And the Voice is second nature to her anyway. She hardly even has to think about it. I have to focus and practice.'
'So learn to be the best warrior you can be without the added distraction of having to concentrate on Shouts at the same time.'
Sha shrugged. She knew that her Dunmer teacher was right. He usually was when it came to weapon work, although she would never admit that. Not to his face, at any rate.
She was glad that when she had chosen to study the use of the sword rather than that of the bow, her mother had asked Ilien to oversee her training. The Dark Elf was a fair teacher. If she did something well, he never failed to praise her. If she did something wrong, he never failed to criticise. Without his blunt rebukes, she would never have learned the correct way to grip a weapon's hilt, or the right way to balance her weight, or how to stand firmly enough to not fall over, yet lightly enough to be able to move. The sign of a good teacher, in Sha's opinion, was that they never allowed you to make mistakes. And she was grateful beyond measure that Ilien cared enough to criticise.
Sha bent down and retrieved her sword from where it had fallen in the snow. 'Are we carrying on?'
Ilien shook his head. 'That's enough for today. It looks like there's a snowstorm moving in.'
'Downside of living on top of a mountain,' Sha remarked, with a rueful grin. She loved High Hrothgar – the view of Skyrim sprawled out below them, the peaceful atmosphere of the temple, the wide courtyard that was perfect for training and for snowball fights – but the endless blizzards did get a little tedious from time to time. Never in her life, except when she'd gone with her parents or some of the other warriors to visit the cities on various business, had she ever put down her feet when standing outside and heard anything other than the crunch of snow. Not that she really minded. There weren't many mortals who could boast that their home was the tallest mountain in Tamriel, and that was what the Throat of the World was.
Sha sheathed her sword and followed Ilien towards High Hrothgar. In ancient times, she knew, this monastery had been the home of the Greybeards, men of peace who had learned the Way of the Voice just as the Dragonhearts did, but never used it, remaining instead on top of their mountain to meditate. Sha had read the diaries and chronicles that her ancestor had written, just as most of the order had, and she knew that the first of the Khajiit Dragonborns had held the Greybeards in high esteem. But Sha wasn't quite sure she understood their purpose. Why learn how to use the Voice if you didn't actually do anything with it?
A smile flickered over her face. Her mother, the legendary Dragonborn known as A'jira, had thought the same. That was why she had rebuilt this ancient temple, turning it from a dimly lit, slightly crumbling, completely empty building to a fortress worthy of the protectors of Skyrim. That was why she had invited warriors from all over Tamriel to come here and begin learning the Way of the Voice. That was why she had called to the dragons, asking them to overcome their natural will to dominate and destroy and become creatures of honour and loyalty.
And they had come. The mortals had been the first, most of them Nords, but plenty from every race. Almost all had been skilled warriors, but A'jira had been forced to turn many of them away. Learning how to Shout in the dragon tongue took patience and wisdom, something that many of the mortals who came to High Hrothgar at first did not possess. But gradually, the ranks of the order had started to swell.
Ilien had been the first to be accepted. He had A'jira had briefly met before, although not on the best of terms. When Sha's mother had first come to High Hrothgar whilst on her quest to defeat Alduin, she had been ambushed by a gang of bandits, one of whom had been Ilien. After witnessing A'jira's power over the Voice, Ilien, like his fellows, had fled. After learning who A'jira was, he had sought to redeem himself, and had come to the Throat of the World expecting to be turned away. Instead, he had been initiated, and had become, in the words of Sha's father, 'A reformed character.'
There had been many others since then, men, elves and beastfolk alike, who had come to High Hrothgar and been found worthy of learning the Voice. Two decades later, and there were about twenty five in all, some hardened warriors, others ordinary folk who had been farmers and fishermen before joining the Dragonhearts. But no matter what their races and pasts might be, they all had one thing in common – a fierce will to protect Skyrim. Their home.
And then, of course, there were the dragons.
The dragons did not number as many as the mortals – there were only fourteen. Unlike the mortal initiates, however, of whom many more had volunteered to become Dragonhearts than had been accepted, these fourteen were the only dragons who had come to the Throat of the World since the founding of the order.
In the beginning, just as the only mortals had been Sha's parents, there had been only two dragons. The first was Odahviing, who had been the steed, protector and friend of Sha and A'jira's ancestor, J'shana, the first Khajiit dragonborn. He had sworn an oath that he would watch over their bloodline, and so he had. Back then, he had been a warrior, once one of the most devoted and fiercest followers of Alduin, then a fearsome defender of the Dragonborn. Now, he served a very different role.
The second dragon was Laaskriiah, a female Elder Dragon. She-dragons were not as common as the males, but they were no less powerful, and Laaskriiah was one of the most determined and formidable dovahhe Sha knew. Laaskriiah had not been a follower of Alduin since his defeat in the Dragon War, and she had helped A'jira to defeat him upon his second return. She had taught A'jira how to summon her, and the two rode together into battle just as J'shana and Odahviing had in bygone days.
They were the first, but slowly, more had come – dragons who were willing to set aside the way of life they were used to and become 'reformed characters' just as Ilien had. It was hard for them, but patience and kindness guided them through. Sha often thought it amusing that the mortal Dragonhearts spent hours meditating so that they could learn the ways of dragons, while the dovahhe did the same thing in the hope of becoming a little more like mortals.
And over the years, the dragons and mortals became closer and closer companions. At last the day had come when one – Sha's father – had managed to learn the Shout to call his closest dragon friend, a Frost Dragon named Kestmaarnah. After that, a tradition had been born. If a dragon trusted a mortal enough to give them their name, and that mortal had the determination and wisdom to learn how to call them, then they became Viingsoskiinne – Wingsiblings. When they went to battle, the mortal would ride upon the back of the dragon, and together, they were an almost indomitable fighting force.
Sha did not yet have a Viingsoskiin. But that didn't trouble her all that much. She had only recently turned sixteen – old enough to be an able fighter, but not really experienced enough to join the more accomplished Dragonhearts on their missions. Their main purpose, though they would fly out to defend their people against almost any threat, was to keep rogue dragons from harming any of the citizens of the province, and much as Sha wanted to be able to fight, she didn't feel ready to fight dragons yet.
Although… her mother had been sixteen when she had fought Alduin. Sha felt a sudden burst of impatience. Why shouldn't she begin defending Skyrim? Wasn't it what she had been born to do?
'Afternoon, Ilien. J'shana.'
The voice came as a surprise, jolting Sha out of her thoughts abruptly. She turned her head and smiled along with Ilien at the speaker.
'Ahnok, Drusus,' she called.
Drusus nodded to her a little shyly as he walked past. The young Imperial was the newest Dragonhearts, a former carpenter whose shop had been burned to ashes by the fire of a feral dragon. He'd been at the Throat of the World about a month – long enough for Sha to get to know him and decide that she liked him, but not long enough to have told him to call her by her nickname.
It was a running joke in the Dragonhearts that every one of their warriors had two initiation ceremonies. One took place when they performed their first Shout. When that happened, they would have proved that they had the skill to learn how to use the Voice, and so the Dragonhearts would gather around them in a circle, the initiate would Shout in front of them all, and then A'jira would step forwards and say the words of the ceremony that would make them a full Dragonheart.
The second initiation, they joked, was when A'jira's daughter turned to them and told them, 'Call me Sha.'
Sha's birth name, the name that her parents had given her, was J'shana, after the first Khajiit Dragonborn. If they had been a traditional Khajiit family, she would have been Ma'shana or M'shana at first, only being given the J prefix when she was old enough, but Sha's was not a traditional Khajiit family. For a start, her mother had lost her parents at the age of three and been brought up by Nords. She didn't speak Ta'agra, she worshipped Talos, and she had never set foot in Elsweyr. And Sha's father was an Argonian. Half-bloods were not as rare any more as they had been in the past, but they were still uncommon, and slightly unpredictable. Most often they inherited their mother's race, although some of their father's features were sometimes present. Sha was no exception – she resembled a Khajiit in everything apart from the fact that she was a slightly stronger swimmer than most of her kin. Not that she got the chance to practise very often, living on top of a mountain where most water was in the form of ice.
But anyway, the consequence of being born to parents who had no idea of Khajiit naming traditions was that they had – in Sha's opinion – decided to play it safe and named her after their ancestor. She liked the name, and she was proud to bear it. Who wouldn't be honoured to be named for a hero like the first J'shana? The only problem was that whenever someone mentioned the name J'shana, she would often find herself running over to whoever it was asking if they wanted her, only to find that they had actually been talking about her ancestor.
She had been about eight when she had decided that enough was enough, and that from now on, she would be called by her nickname, Sha. After that, whenever she was introduced to someone who asked her name, she would tell them, 'I'm J'shana. My friends call me Sha.' And gradually things had changed so that only her friends called her Sha.
That was why it was seen as a Dragonheart's second initiation when Sha decided she liked someone enough to allow them to call her by her nickname. Anyone who had the right to call her Sha had earned the trust and respect of the Dragonborn's daughter.
Sha watched as Drusus walked by them, heading towards the training dummies set up along one side of the courtyard. It was Hearthfire, and the days were warmer than usual, which meant that most of the members of the order were outside. There were others already at the practice area – Sha spotted Firlaen, a shrewd and talented Bosmer, steadily filling the stuffed figures with arrows, and two of the Dragonhearts' mages, Lorn and Listens-To-Echoes, sending bolts of fire, frost and lightning towards them. Nearby, two Nords, Andelm and Tholund, sat beside one of the braziers, reading in the warmth of the flames, with Tholund occasionally leaning across and muttering something to Andelm – probably asking what a word meant, Sha thought with a grin. Tholund wasn't the sharpest blade in the armoury. A few dragons wheeled through the sky, some carrying the indistinct blurs of riders on their backs. And a little way away, at the courtyard's edge, a small figure sat on a boulder, legs crossed and head bowed, a figure who turned and beckoned as Sha walked by.
'Sha, come and see this!'
Sha glanced at Ilien, who shrugged. 'Go ahead. Training's over.'
With a grateful nod to her teacher, Sha jogged across the courtyard until she reached the edge. 'What is it, Arnor?'
Arnor Eagle-Heart was the daughter of two Dragonhearts, Andelm and Sviri, and apart from Sha, the only resident of High Hrothgar who could boast that she'd been born there. Her parents had left their home – the Skaal Village on the isle of Solstheim – to join the order, and Arnor had been born six months after Sha. The two were different in almost every way – one a grey and black tabby Khajiit, smaller than average and more than a little reckless, the other a dark-haired, blue-eyed Nord, tall even as a child and as patient and quiet as Sha was restless and eager. But despite their differences, they had grown up together, played together, trained together and practised the Voice together, and Sha hoped that one day they would take to the skies together on dragonback.
'I've finally got it,' Arnor announced as Sha reached her, turning to face the cliff with a broad smile. 'Watch.'
The young Nord breathed in deeply, sucking air down into her lungs, and let out a thunderous Shout. 'LOK!'
The pale blue shape of the Shout tore through the air, shooting away from the one who had uttered it and ripping into the sky. The shockwave soon vanished from sight, but Sha could see it continuing on its path from the way the clouds parted, splitting in half and rolling aside.
'Clear Skies,' Sha remarked. 'Impressive.' She couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy. Clear Skies was one of the simpler Shouts, but even now, three years since she'd learned the first word, she hadn't quite managed to master it yet. But then, she hadn't really been practising it all that much. Sha preferred to focus on the combat-based Shouts. Fire Breath was the first one she had mastered completely, and she was able to use all three words. She knew the first word of Unrelenting Force, too, one of Elemental Fury, and was practising Frost Breath, though she wasn't able to use it yet. Arnor preferred to practise the less violent Shouts – she had mastered Kyne's Peace, and was working on Animal Allegiance and Slow Time. And now, it seemed, she had also learned the first word of Clear Skies.
'When you learn a Shout,' Sha's mother was constantly saying, 'You take it into yourself, make it a part of you. And you, in turn, become part of it. That's why it's easiest to learn Shouts that appeal most to your inner nature.'
Sha wasn't certain she understood the part about becoming part of a Shout, but she knew what the last bit meant. The Shouts that each different Dragonheart preferred said a lot about them. Lorn, for example, who was a quiet and deep-thinking Altmer, favoured Become Ethereal. Ilien's favourite Shout was Elemental Fury, which allowed him to move at lightning speed in battle. Duroth, the Dragonhearts' only Orc, was a strong-willed warrior, and naturally the Shout he used most was Unrelenting Force.
'It's good, isn't it?' Arnor said happily, beaming widely as she watched the clouds roll apart. 'You can see so much when there aren't any clouds.'
'It's a nice Shout, but it wouldn't be much use in a fight,' Sha pointed out. 'Unless it was raining and you didn't want your sword to get rusty.'
Arnor rolled her eyes and gave her a push that made her stagger. 'I wouldn't use it in a fight, though, would I? That's not what it's for.'
'Nope. It's for people who can't put up with a bit of rain,' Sha grinned.
Arnor bent down, scooped up a snowball and hurled it at Sha's head. The Khajiit ducked quickly. When you lived on a mountain, the standard way of expressing annoyance at someone was to chuck snow at them, and you soon learned to dodge.
'I can't wait to show Duroth,' Arnor announced. 'He'll be jealous.'
Sha raised her eyebrows. 'You think? I don't think he really cares about Shouts that aren't to do with fighting.'
'Yes, but he can't do it,' Arnor shrugged. 'And you know how he reacts when one of us can do something that he can't.'
There was a sudden, loud sound, one that every Dragonheart recognised and heard every day – the sound of a dragon's heavy, echoing wingbeats. A moment later, the snow beneath their feet turned grey as a vast shadow fell upon it, blocking out the sun. Both girls ducked as something enormous swept over their heads, then spun around to see a brown-scaled dragon land in the courtyard behind them with a thunderous thud and a shower of snow.
'What can't I do?' came an indignant voice.
The dragon lowered its head, and a young Orc, jumped down from his riding position behind its horns. Arnor straightened up slowly, glaring at him. 'Duroth, do you have to show off like that?'
Duroth's brown eyes widened slightly. 'Show off?' he repeated, looking offended. 'Show off?' He turned to the dragon. 'Juskahrath, do I show off?'
Juskahrath inclined his head, his mouth curving upwards into the closest thing a dragon could come to a smirk. 'Aan mal, Viingzeymah. A little.'
Arnor giggled, Sha clamped her hands over her mouth to stifle a laugh, and Juskahrath made a low, rumbling chuckling sound. It was far from the first time that Duroth and Juskahrath had swooped down on them like that, and Sha doubted it would be the last. She guessed she would have to get used to it.
Duroth was probably her best friend, after Arnor. She could still vaguely remember the day ten years ago when he had arrived at High Hrothgar. There had been rumours of rogue dragons - either ferals or followers of Alduin – preying on settlements in the Reach, and Sha's mother had flown out with a small band of Drgonhearts to see if anything needed to be done. But they had arrived too late. A pair of blood dragons had attacked an Orc stronghold, burning the place to the ground and slaughtering all they had found there. Only Duroth, seven years old and far too small to fight, had survived. His parents had hidden him in a cellar, and he had not emerged until after the sound of screaming and roaring had stopped. Sha's mother had found him, kneeling over the bodies of his parents, too stunned and afraid to cry. Alone as he was, he'd had only two options – go to an orphanage, or come and live on High Hrothgar. He'd chosen the latter.
The fact that he, Sha and Arnor were close in age meant that they spent most of their time in each other's company – and Duroth's company was always enjoyable. Despite the tragedy of his past, he was a cheerful soul, and unlike many teenage boys, he had never thought it embarrassing that his only mortal friends were girls. Or if he did, he never said anything about it.
Sha knew, though, that though she and Arnor were two of Duroth's best friends, they were not his closest friends by a long way. That title went to Juskahrath; there was no disputing it. The brown-scaled dragon was young for a dovah – he had been hatched some time after Alduin's second coming upon Nirn, and by that time, the World Eater was already dead. Sha suspected that the fact he had never been under Alduin's influence was why Juskahrath had found it easier than some dragons to overcome his will to destroy. He had come to the Throat of the World when Duroth was thirteen, and they had become official Wingsiblings two years later, making the Orc the youngest Dragonheart so far to establish that bond with a dragon. Now Duroth and Juskahrath were an almost inseparable pair, and a formidable fighting force.
And they were both show-offs. Everyone in High Hrothgar would agree with Sha on that one.
'So, what can't I do?' Duroth demanded, turning to Arnor. 'If I can't do it now, I bet I can learn.'
Arnor rolled her eyes. 'The Clear Skies Shout. I just mastered the first word.'
The Orc snorted. 'So you can stop it from raining. Very impressive.'
Sha and Arnor had long since learned not to take anything Duroth said seriously, especially if it sounded like an insult, and the Nord girl didn't seem bothered by the Orc's dismissive attitude. 'Look at it this way, Duroth,' Arnor sighed. 'How many times in your life have you wished you could stop it raining, compared to the amount of times you've wanted to hurl someone halfway across a room and break their spine?'
Juskahrath tilted his head on one side. 'The bron has a point, zeymah.'
'Yeah, but which is going to be more useful in an actual battle?' Duroth demanded.
'And which is going to be more useful in everyday life?' Arnor countered.
'But what are the Dragonhearts actually for? Fighting!'
'That is not entirely true, ogiim,' came a low growl from behind them.
The Orc and the dragon turned their heads, and the Khajiit and the Nord inched to the side in order to see around their friends. There was a pause; then all four gave small, respectful nods in the direction of the speaker.
'Drem yol lok, Odahviing,' Sha said quietly.
The red dragon cast a long, measuring gaze over the younger creatures. Sha wondered how long he had been listening. Odahviing spent most of his time on the small plateau near the summit of the mountain, but every so often he would come down to the monastery, usually in order to speak to Sha's mother. He must have approached while they had been too busy arguing to notice him.
'Greetings, Dovahloz,' Odahviing growled, giving her a small, toothy smile, which Sha readily returned. Dovahloz – dragon cub - was the name that most of the dragons called her by.
Odahviing arched his long neck and turned his head to the side so as to get a better look at Duroth. 'Why do you say that we exist to fight, goraan gein?'
Duroth shrugged. 'Aren't we meant to be Skyrim's protectors?'
'Protection does not always mean fighting,' Odahviing answered.
Dragons often spoke in a cryptic manner by their nature, and the mortals who lived among them had long since learned to be patient when listening to them. They always got around to saying what they meant eventually.
'You all know me as the dovah who sits upon the peak of the Monahven, lost in lor… in thought,' Odahviing said, and Sha detected a trace of amusement in the words. 'That was not always my heyv, my duty. Before your births, joorre, that task fell to another, one far wiser than I.'
The three mortals nodded. 'Paarthurnax,' Sha murmured.
Odahviing's gaze grew distant, and he stared out into the sky cleared by Arnor's Shout. 'There was a time, ogiim, when I thought the same way as you. You think of me as a mindopah, a teacher, but not so long ago, I was a kendov. A warrior, just as you are.'
Sha, Arnor, Duroth and Juskahrath watched the scarlet-scaled dragon as he lumbered past them and settled at the edge of the cliff, wrapping his thick tail over his feet. 'I was a follower of Alduin, one of his most trusted aarre. On his orders, I slew many. I turned homes to yol and ash. My claws ran red with the sos of mortals. And when Alduin was defeated, I felt like many of the dovahhe. Sizaan. Lost. Lacking purpose.'
Sha had heard this story many times, but she guessed that Odahviing had a reason for telling it to them, so she listened.
'But you found it again,' Arnor said. 'Serving Sha's ancestor.'
'Nid, not serving.' Odahviing sounded slightly wistful. 'I was her fahdon and her grah-zeymahzin… her friend and ally. When she called, I came. And when she needed me to krif, then I fought. It was a purpose of which I was justly zokah, proud.' He dropped his fierce yellow gaze to the snow. 'But then the Dovahkiin died, as all mortals must die. I feared that I would lose my newfound zin, my honour. Until Paarthurnax called me to the Monahven.'
He lifted his head, his neck twisting around, and Sha saw his eyes fix upon the mountain's distant peak. 'Paarthurnax began to… train me. He was my mindopah, and I his pruustiik.'
Teacher and student, Sha translated mentally. She'd been learning the Dragon Tongue almost since she was old enough to speak, and though she wasn't yet fluent, she was becoming close to it.
'Paarthurnax and I both knew that Alduin would some day return. And so we waited. We watched. But we both knew that his power was waning. With his age, and with the wounds he had received in grah with Alduin, his ability to read the currents of tiid was weakening. When Alduin returned, a new dovah would have to guide the Dovahkiin, and train her as Paarthurnax trained the first Kaaz Dovahkiin.' He turned to look at Sha again. 'When your monah discovered her destiny as Dovahkiin, young kaaz, Paarthurnax was still living. But after her victory over Alduin, he…' He paused, as if searching for the right word. 'He lifaan. Departed.'
'He died,' Duroth stated flatly.
What looked like irritation sparked in Odahviing's eyes, but it was quickly gone. 'Nid, ogiim. No. He departed.'
'Where to?' Duroth demanded. 'If he's not around on Nirn any more, he's dead.'
Odahviing let out a low growl. 'There are some things I cannot share with joorre, even fahdonne and Dovahzahreikke. Some secrets belong only to dov.'
Sha swapped a puzzled glance with Arnor. The Nord shrugged. Even Juskahrath seemed confused.
'Where Paarthurnax went, and why, is not of importance,' Odahviing said firmly. 'What matters is the onikaan and the heyz, the wisdom and the duty, that he imparted to me before he left. He told me that he wished for me to take his place on the summit of the Monahven. Unahzaal korahviik. He said that I was to watch over Keizaal, gazing into the currents of time, as he did. I was to become a mindopah. Since then I have taken upon Paarthurnax's position, though I often feel the urge to fight within me. I do not possess his wisdom, but in teaching, so I learn.'
He turned around, away from the cliff edge, facing the four younger creatures again. 'As mindopah, it is my duty to teach the dovahhe that there are other ways to live- better ways than that of yol and dinok. In the beginning, when Paarthurnax and the Dovahkiin started to teach such things to me, I found it hard to learn. But they trusted me to teach, and I shall not betray that trust. This is the destiny that was set out for me.'
Sha heard Duroth mutter something that sounded suspiciously like, 'Get to the point,' and tried her best to block him out.
'I am a warrior at zahreik, at heart,' Odahviing rumbled. 'But though I shall always be ready to krif when called to, I have a greater duty now. My purpose is to turn as many dovahhe as I can away from the path of bloodshed.' He paused for a moment, as if considering something, then added, 'Unlike Paarthurnax, I do not believe that my kind should turn to the Way of the Voice and abandon the part of our inner nature that calls us to kein, to war. The dovah is a creature born to fight. What I believe is that we need a greater cause to fight for.'
'Like ours,' Arnor offered.
'Vrah. Indeed.' Odahviing nodded slowly. 'Here we can be kendovve, warriors, and yet our rage is used as a tool to build peace. Not to destroy.' His gaze focused on Duroth. 'You understand, goraan ogiim? There must be balance. Just as gol and lok, vulon and sul, felniir and koor exist in harmony, so must rahgol and drem.'
Earth and sky, day and night, winter and summer, Sha thought. And rage and peace.
'This is our purpose. Not to fight, but to bring balance. And once you mindoraan daar vahzen, understand this truth, you are on your way to controlling that balance within yourself.'
Sha frowned. She thought she understood what Odahviing meant, but she couldn't be sure. She glanced at her friends. Arnor and Juskahrath looked puzzled; Duroth doubtful.
Odahviing laughed a dragon's deep laugh. 'You are young. You have much to learn, and it is tiid ahrk seirak, time and experience, that shall teach it to you. What you must see is already in front of you, but until you come to understand, you shall not be given the eyes to see it.' He bared his vicious white teeth in a smile. 'Come, kiirre. There is aan odstrun approaching, and though your new Shout, young bron, might banish it, sometimes it is better to allow nature to take its course.'
Duroth shrugged. 'I guess we'd better get inside. I'd rather not get stuck in a snowstorm.'
Juskahrath spread his vast wings. 'I shall take shelter on the lower reaches of the mountain, zeymah,' he told Duroth, and took to the air, sending up a maelstrom of snowflakes.
Duroth glanced at Arnor and Sha. 'You girls coming inside?'
'You two go,' Sha told them. 'I just want to ask Odahviing something.'
She watched her friends make their way across the courtyard, waiting until they were out of earshot before turning to Odahviing. 'Odah, you said that you thought being a teacher was your destiny. Can you actually see the future? Do you know what people's destinies are?'
The red dragon tilted his head on one side. 'What do you believe, dovahloz?'
Sha was tempted to say that she hadn't asked what she believed, but arguing with a dragon was pointless. 'I… I'm not sure. Ma says that we decide our own fates.'
'But do you agree with her? And is fate the same as destiny?'
Sha blinked, surprised. 'I never thought they could be different.' She closed her eyes, wondering. What did she think?
'I'm not sure I like the idea of my entire life being planned out by the Divines,' she said finally. 'I'd prefer to be making my own choices.'
Odahviing looked pleased. 'Tol los pruzah. That is good.'
He let out a long sigh. 'It is not easy to say what I see in the currents of time, dovahloz. Much is unclear. Paarthurnax could see far more through the tiid-ahraan, the time wound, than is shown to me. Perhaps with time, what I see shall be clearer. I, too, lack experience. Like your Orc friend, I have much to learn.'
'So you can see the future… just not all of it?'
'I see fragments, kaaz kiir. As I overcome my inner rahgol, I hope I shall see more.' Odahviing opened his wings, stretched them out, then folded them again. 'As for destiny, dovahloz, your choices are your own. The future is ever in motion, so Paarthurnax told me. Your mother could not deny the fact that she was to be born as Dovahkiin – that is, was, and shall mahfaeraak be her destiny. But her fate she may choose.'
Sha dipped her head. 'I think I understand.'
'I think so too, kiir. And the day shall come when you understand more.' The crimson dragon took a shuffling step towards her. 'But remember this, kiir. Though you may make your own choices, the dragon blood flows strong within you, and the dovah sos is the blood of destiny. I believe there is something in your future, something meant only for you.'
Sha felt a sudden shiver run through her body, from the tufted tips of her ears to the end of her tail. 'What sort of something?'
'A destiny.' Odahviing's yellow eyes burned into hers. 'I cannot say when. It may be tomorrow. It may be pogaan eruvosse, many years, before it comes to pass. Perhaps it has already begun.'
Sha opened her mouth, ready to ask him what that meant for her – but before she could speak, a new sound rang out through the air, over the wind, over the wingbeats of the few dragons that circled overhead, over the distant cries of the eagles and hawks.
It was a roar, but a roar unlike any she had ever heard before. It sounded like a dragon, but it was far louder than any dragon. And as she listened, she could almost detect words within the roar, faint words that seemed to sound in her mind rather than in her ears. But when she tried to focus on them, to listen to them, they slipped away from her, and before she could try again the roar faded away into the wind.
Sha stood there for a few seconds, angling her ears left and right, trying to detect any remaining trace of the sound, but it was gone, as if it had never existed. Her brow furrowing, she turned to Odahviing. 'What was that?'
The dragon had gone very still. His limbs were rigid, as if locked in ice, and his eyes were staring out over Skyrim with a strange expression in them. His claws were digging into the snow, gouging long, deep marks in the soft white surface.
'Odahviing?' Sha ventured. 'Are you all right?'
For a heartbeat, Odahviing did not stir. Then he blinked and shook his head, turning away. 'There is nothing wrong,' he growled. 'It was nothing.'
Sha took a nervous step in his direction. 'What was that roar? It sounded almost like a Shout-'
'It was nothing,' Odahviing repeated, more firmly. 'Nothing that should trouble you, kiir. Follow your friends before the snowstorm comes.'
The Khajiit gazed at the dragon, unable to fight down a feeling of unease. There had been something about that roar – and about Odahviing's reaction to hearing it – that had felt wrong. Deeply, terribly wrong.
But there was no arguing with a dragon.
With a final nod towards the dragon teacher, Sha turned and ran towards High Hrothgar after Duroth and Arnor.
Odahviing looked on as the Dragonborn's daughter raced through the snow, her tail streaming behind her. Not until she had disappeared through the doors to the monastery did he turn away to face the mountains and forests of Skyrim once more.
'It cannot be,' he murmured. 'It cannot be.'
He shook his head firmly. 'I was mistaken,' he growled. 'I would know if it was. I would know.'
But as he spread his wings and leaped into the air, heading towards the peace and shelter of his plateau, he couldn't stop his thoughts from straying to his recent visions.
There was no denying it. Somehow, sometime soon, something was coming. And when it came, it would come for the Dragonhearts.
And the Dragonborn's daughter would be a part of it.
Odahviing was not as old as Paarthurnax had been, nor as experienced, nor anywhere near so wise. But he did not need Paarthurnax's knowledge to be certain of the truth.
J'shana, daughter of A'jira, was far more important than she knew. She had a destiny. And that destiny was coming.
Soon.
Oh, Odahviing, if only you knew...
So, at last I've introduced the Dragonhearts! I hope you like Sha, Arnor and Duroth, because they'll all be playing important parts in the story. Odahviing, meanwhile, has inherited Paarthurnax's ability to ramble... I'm interested to know what you think of my new characters, and of this chapter. :)
Thanks for reading!
