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Chapter 7 - Way of the Voice

Early the next morning, immediately after they'd eaten, Yssha and Marcurio met Klimmek where he'd said to pick up the supplies, then started up the mountain. Both of them were wearing furs over their armor, which at the moment had Marcurio sweating and Yssha panting, but as they climbed, that eased. It wasn't as easy as Klimmek had said; besides the wolves he'd warned them about, they had to fight off a couple of ice wraiths and a frost troll.

It was the weather that gave them the most trouble, though. By the time they were what Yssha estimated to be a third of the way up, she was chilly despite the furs, and the wind was picking up. Not much later, it also started snowing. She'd run into that a couple of times, in the clan's more northern homes back in Cyrodiil, and had immediately decided that if she had to do more than look at it - it did make everything look remarkably clean, for a while -she didn't care for it.

But this was worse, obscuring visibility and, as it got deeper, hampering their progress. "I think I agree with Klimmek," she told Marcurio when they paused for a brief rest. "This High Hrothgar is too high for my taste, as well."

"I'll make number three," he agreed. "About the only thing good about this is that it's a dry snow, so most of it blows away except in the lowest spots. If it were a wet one, it'd be a lot worse, and we'd probably have to pitch camp at least once. We still may, if we don't get there before dark."

That was enough to energize the young, and very chilly, Khajiit. "Then let us move on. The idea of camping in the snow is ... " She paused, trying to decide on a word that would properly describe her reaction, but Marcurio cut her off.

"Not one I'd find very attractive, and it's probably worse for you, dearling." He moved out, ahead of her so he could break trail as long as he could.

That was quite the understatement, Yssha thought. She had been raised in southern Cyrodiil, and was totally unused to Skyrim's weather. especially in the mountains, like here. But it had been her choice to come here, she reminded herself, so she slogged up the mountain behind Marcurio until he let out an exclamation. "We made it!"

Yssha broke out of her single-minded concentration on moving up the mountain to stand beside him. It looked like midafternoon, so they'd made better time than she had feared. They were standing in front of a huge stone building, with a chest between two curving sets of steps. She put Klimmek's sack in the chest, then climbed the right-hand stairs and opened the large doors.

She sighed in relief at being out of the icy wind when Marcurio followed her inside and closed the door. It might or might not be warm in here - she was too cold to be sure - but the lack of wind made it feel much warmer.

A man in monkish robes approached them, speaking to her. "So ... a Dragonborn appears, at this moment in the turning of the age." He looked at Marcurio, then said, "We had expected you alone, Dragonborn. Why is he here?"

"My husband," she replied. She paused, while he studied them with an air of mild disapproval, then she asked her own question. "What does it mean to be Dragonborn?"

"We will first see if you truly have the gift. Show us, Dragonborn. Let us taste of your Voice." She hestiated, remembering what it had done outdoors; what would it do confined to a building?

He looked at Marcurio. "Ah, yes. You are the only one who might be in danger here, but we will not ask you to go back out in the snow. But you need to at least be out of, ah, line of sight." He pointed to a short flight of steps to the left. "Up there, you will see a corridor. Go right, and to the furthest living area, past the beds. The stone there is thick enough to provide protection. We will let you know when it is safe to come back."

Marcurio glanced at her, but did as the monk had said.

Arngeir turned his attention back to her. "Do not be afraid. Your shout will not harm us."

"All right, if you are sure." It was easy to remember how she had done it earlier, and she Shouted, "FUS!"

He staggered back, but then approached her again, smiling. "Dragonborn. It is you. Welcome to High Hrothgar. I am Master Arngeir. I speak for the Greybeards. Now tell me, Dragonborn, why have you come here?"

"I am answering your summons, Master Arngeir. Who and what are the Greybeards?"

"We are followers of the Way of the Voice. You Stand in High Hrothgar, on the slopes of Kynareth's sacred mountain. Here we commune with the voice of the sky, and strive to achieve balance between our inner and outer selves. We are here to guide you in that pursuit, just as the Greybeards have sought to guide those of the Dragon Blood that came before you."

"I know I am not the first Dragonborn," Yssha said. That, to the best of her knowledge, had been St. Alessia, and the Sovereigns from Tiber Septim through Martin had shared that heritage. "Am I the only one, then?"

"Whether you are the only Dragonborn of this age ... that is not ours to know. You are the only one that has been revealed thus far. That is all I can say."

He smiled at her. "We are honored to welcome a Dragonborn to High Hrothgar. We will do our best to teach you how to use your gift in fulfillment of your destiny."

"And what is my destiny, then?"

"That is for you to discover. We can show you the Way, but not your destination."

He paused before continuing. "You have shown that you are Dragonborn. You have the inborn gift. But do you have the discipline and temperament to follow the path laid out for you? That remains to be seen. Without training, you have already taken the first steps towards projecting your Voice into a Thu'um, a Shout. Now let us see if you are willing and able to learn.

"When you Shout, you speak in the language of the dragons. Thus, your Dragon Blood gives you an inborn ability to learn Words of Power. All Shouts are made up of three Words of Power. As you master each Word, your Shout will become progressively stronger."

Then Arngeir had Master Einarth teach her the second word of Unrelenting Force by Shouting it at the floor. Approaching the glowing symbol gave her the same feeling of something pushing into her that she'd gotten at the Word Wall in the barrow, but having had it happen once before, she didn't react as strongly.

Arngeir nodded approvingly. "You learn a new word like a master... you truly do have the gift. But learning a Word of Power is only the first step... you must unlock its meaning through constant practice in order to use it in a Shout. Well, that is how the rest of us learn Shouts. As Dragonborn, you can absorb a slain dragon's life force and knowledge directly. As part of your initiation, Master Einarth will allow you to tap into his understanding of "Ro."

Yes, that had a similar, but less - urgent? - feel to it as absorbing the dragon soul had had, and now she knew Ro the same way she knew Fus.

"Now let us see how quickly you can master your new Thu'um. Use your Unrelenting Force shout to strike the targets as they appear."

Each of the other three summoned a target for her, and she hit all three, discovering Shouting became rapidly easier with even so little practice.

Arngeir was pleased. "Impressive. Your Thu'um is precise. You show great promise, Dragonborn. We will perform your next trial in the courtyard. Follow Master Borri."

Yssha wasn't at all pleased about having to go back into the cold and wind, but sighed to herself and obeyed. Once there, Master Borri taught her Wuld, or Whirlwind, and gave her his understanding of it, just as Einarth had taught her Ro.

"Now we will see how quickly you can master a new Shout," Arngeir said. "Master Wulfgar will demonstrate Whirlwind Sprint. Then it will be your turn."

Yssha was impressed by Wulfgar's speed as he made it through a briefly-opened gate, then she got to try it - and discovered that this particular Shout was fun! She was tempted to use it again to return to Master Arngeir, but she had the impression he wouldn't approve, so she returned at a sedate walk.

"Your quick mastery of a new Thu'um is... astonishing. I'd heard the stories of the abilities of Dragonborn, but to see it for myself..." His voice trailed off, then became brisk again. "Do you have any questions I could help you with, Dragonborn?"

"I do indeed, and the first one is, can we please go back inside, and get Marcurio? I am still not warmed up from the Seven Thousand Steps."

"Certainly - we are used to the climate here, and tend to forget that is not true of everyone. We can also offer you food and drink, if you wish."

"That would be most welcome - thank you."

Shortly afterward, the six of them were at a dining table off the temple's main room, with hot soup and warmed ale, and she asked her first question. "Why don't the others talk?"

"Their Voices are too powerful for anyone not trained in the Way to withstand," Arngeir said. "Even a whisper could kill you." He paused. "Well, your husband, at any rate. You are not trained in the Way of the Voice, but you are Dragonborn, which provides the same protection."

"What is the Way of the Voice?"

"The Voice was a gift of the goddess Kynareth, at the dawn of time. She gave mortals the ability to speak as dragons do. Although this gift has often been misused, the only true use of the Voice is for the worship and glory of the gods. True mastery of the Voice can only be achieved when your inner spirit is in harmony with your outward actions. In the contemplation of the sky, Kynareth's domain, and the practice of the Voice, we strive to achieve this balance."

Yssha didn't show her first reaction to that. Such power, and they wouldn't use it to help people? Didn't the gods want that? The Knights of the Nine certainly believed they did. So she kept her voice neutral when she said, "But I don't follow your philosophy. Why help me learn the Voice?"

Arngeir sighed. "The Dragonborn is an exception to all the rules — the Dragon Blood itself is a gift of the gods. If we accept one gift, how can we deny the other? As Dragonborn, you have received the ability to Shout directly from Akatosh. We therefore seek to guide you on the proper use of your gift, which transcends the restrictions which bind other mortals."

Yssha returned to her first question, which had been deflected, not answered. "What does it mean to be Dragonborn?"

Arngeir's response this time was more helpful. "Dragons have the inborn ability to learn and project their Voice. Dragons also are able to absorb the power of their slain brethren. A few mortals are born with similar abilities — whether a gift or a curse has been a matter of debate down through the centuries. What you have already learned in a few hours took even the most gifted of us years to achieve. Some believe that Dragonborn are sent into the world by the gods, at times of great need. We will speak more of that later, when you are ready."

Another stall, but she would probably be back, so it could wait. "Why are Shouts in the dragon language?"

"Dragons have always been able to Shout. Language is intrinsic to their very being. There is no difference in the dragon tongue between debating and fighting. Shouting comes as naturally to a dragon as breathing or speaking. In mythic times, when mortalkind was in great need, the goddess Kynareth granted us the ability to speak as dragons do. For most people, long years of training are required to learn even the simplest Shout. But for you, the dragon speech is in your blood, and you learn it almost without effort."

That was interesting. "Hmm. Not all of life is debate or combat, so is it safe to assume they have normal language as well?"

Arngeir stared at her for a moment, then chuckled. "Yes, of course. We even have a dictionary and grammar of that. I can have a copy made for you, if you wish."

"Yes, please." Yssha sighed. "If I can talk to them, I may not have to kill them. I really prefer not to kill, but I will not hesitate when it becomes necessary."

"As a number of bandits and draugr will testify," Marcurio added. "Not to mention wolves, ice wraiths, and a troll on the way up here."

Arngeir frowned. "Wolves are common, but ice wraiths and trolls are rare on this mountain. Our Grandmaster Paarthurnax is usually able to frighten them away."

"Grandmaster?" Yssha asked curiously. "Why haven't I met him?"

"He lives in seclusion at the top of the mountain," Arngeir said. "You will probably meet him later, when your Voice is strong enough to make a journey the rest of the way up."

The idea of going the rest of the way up the mountain, especially today, was one she didn't want to entertain, so she dropped the subject. "What is next?"

"You are now ready for your last trial. Retrieve the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller, our founder, from his tomb in the ancient fane of Ustengrav. Remain true to the Way of the Voice, and you will return."

"Who was Jurgen Windcaller?"

"He was a great war leader of the ancient Nords, a master of the Voice, or Tongue. After the disaster at Red Mountain, where the Nord army was annihilated, he spent many years pondering the meaning of that terrible defeat. He finally came to realize that the gods had punished the Nords for their arrogant and blasphemous misuse of the Voice. He was the first to understand that the Voice should be used solely for the glory and worship of the gods, not the glory of men. Jurgen Windcaller's mastery of the Voice eventually overcame all opposition, and the Way of the Voice was born."

He'd said the usual rules didn't apply to her, so Yssha just nodded. "Is there more you believe I should know?"

"Not until you return with the Horn," Arngeir replied. "Afterward, yes." He smiled briefly. "The trip down is quicker than the climb up, but you are welcome to remain overnight if you wish."

Yssha wasn't too thrilled about going back outside, but she didn't want to teleport in front of anyone, either. Not that it would remain a secret long that she could get places a lot faster than most people, but short of an emergency, she preferred doing so out of sight. "Thank you, Master Arngeir, but I would prefer to be warmer than seems possible up here, even with extra furs."

He gave her a sympathetic smile. "We understand, Dragonborn. We will await your return."

As soon as the two were outside, she took Marcurio's hand and cast Teleport. An eyeblink later, they were outside Whiterun. They took off the extra furs, putting them in their packs, and began the short walk to the city. The guards greeted them politely, admitting them with no questions, and they were soon home.

She opened the door and walked in, then blinked in surprise, her ears going forward. The house was still small, but no longer dusty or unfurnished, and had a cheerful fire in a firepit that hadn't been there before - or at least she hadn't noticed. It was a good thing she hadn't tried to 'port here, since it was so different from the way she would have visualized it! "What - "

Lydia turned from where she stood at a well-stocked food cabinet. "My Thane - you're back!" She smiled. "The townsfolk decided a bare shell of a house was unsuitable for the Dragonborn, so they contributed labor, furniture, and food. Most of the furniture is out of storage rooms, so some of it is a little shabby, but usable. And your bedroom is all new, of course."

"It is wonderful!" Yssha exclaimed. "Most generous - I had not expected anything like this. And right now, the fire is most welcome. It will probably take me days to thaw out from the trip to High Hrothgar." She tossed her pack onto a table, and collapsed into a chair near that warmth, then looked hopefully at her housecarl. "You wouldn't happen to have any warm ale, I suppose?"

Lydia chuckled. "No, but it won't take long to warm some, spiced the way Mother taught me." She turned to her task as Marcurio took another chair near Yssha.

"Love, I was doing some thinking on the trip up," she said. Not that she'd had much else to do, other than their brief battles, with him doing the hard work of breaking trail.

"What about?" Marcurio asked.

"Mostly that I am not truly prepared to fight Alduin," she said. "I need a better weapon, and we both need better armor, which means we need money. My equivalency stipend will not even come close to what I would wish to have for that particular battle. And to be honest, I would like more combat experience, as well."

"None of those would hurt," Marcurio agreed. "There are plenty of ways to get all of those; do you have any preference?"

Lydia was approaching with two mugs, which she handed to Yssha and Marcurio.

"None for yourself?" Yssha asked in mild surprise.

"Mine is over on the dining table," Lydia said.

"Don't be silly," Marcurio said. "Bring it over here, and pull up a chair."

When Lydia looked doubtful, Yssha nodded. "He is right. You are a member of this household, and a Nord, so you may have information we non-natives lack."

Lydia laughed, then left briefly, to return with a mug of her own, and pulled up a chair. "How can I help?"

"You heard what we need. Do you have any opinion on the best way to get it?" Yssha asked.

Lydia frowned. "The rebellion, either side, would get you combat experience and some loot, but probably not enough, or better weapons than you already have. Adventuring is iffy in all of those, depending on what you run into, but for any given encounter, better on the loot side. For armor and weapons, unless you want to take pot-luck, I'd say learn smithing and enchanting."

"I have basics in all of that, but I thank you." Yssha cat-grinned. "I shall take your advice. Ah, can you sell some things for me? Marcurio's Porter Service has some heavy items stored at the Bannered Mare for me."

"Of course, my Thane. It's a bit late today; is tomorrow morning all right?"

"Just fine," Yssha assured her. "Unless I say otherwise, assume you may do what I ask at your convenience."