Chapter 10 – Stolen Soul, Sleepless Dream
"Fjornir?" Ralof's face lit up in a smile. "Ah, it's good to see you again!" He slid down from the boulder and landed on his feet before the Dragonborn. "I hadn't heard that you died, but, here you are!"
Ralof's reaction confused Fjornir, considering he was the last person Ralof would be happy to see, especially these last six months. "Ralof, what are you doing here?" Fjornir asked.
Ralof smiled. "I'm dead, as you are, brother!" Ralof cheerfully gave Fjornir's shoulder a friendly smack, but his hand lingered on Fjornir's armor. The blonde man's brow furrowed in confusion as he looked into the Dragonborn's eyes. "You're... alive?"
"Yes," Fjornir confirmed. "As are you, Ralof."
"What?" Ralof laughed. "No I'm not. Watch!" He began to vanish and reappear in various parts of the path and nearby meadow. "This is how the quick can avoid the dragon." He frowned. "I've seen several of my fallen comrade's souls be taken because they were not watching the skies. We were always told Sovngarde would be peaceful... but that damned dragon threatens us all."
Fjornir's muscles tensed. "Ralof, you're not dead. I saw you just a few months ago in Riverwood."
Ralof looked confused. "No, I was killed by that dragon at Fort Hraggstad."
"No, Ralof," Fjornir stepped closer to the specter. "Your heart stopped beating, but Eirin saved you. She brought you back to life."
"She tried to save me. I watched her, from the in-between. She was wonderful..." Ralof's expression was a mix of sadness and pride. He smiled at the flowers he still held in his hand. "I felt her hit my body, right before my soul was taken to Sovngarde."
"Ralof," Fjornir spoke quietly, "you walked out of that tent alive. We took you home to Riverwood when the war was over."
Ralof just shook his head.
The Dragonborn thought of a way, any way that he could convince Ralof that he did indeed live that day. "When I saw you in Riverwood, you were talking with Brynja, a Stormcloak officer, your friend. She was dressed in hide clothing and had her hair up in a short braid. You looked happy. I was traveling with Delphine at the time and had no time to say hello to you... Not that it would have mattered, as you had lost your memory and did not remember me." Fjornir laughed. "Which, to be honest, may have been a good thing, for me, anyway."
"I lost my memory?" Ralof asked.
Fjornir nodded. "When Eirin brought you back to life, you did not know who she was. You did not know who your sister was – not even your own name. Gerdur has been taking care of you ever since."
"Fjornir, I'm here. I can't possibly be alive," Ralof declared.
Fjornir sighed. "Listen, I have to go to the Hall of Valor. Do you know where it is?"
"Of course," Ralof answered. "Follow me." Ralof began walking down the path. The roar of Alduin sounded somewhere in the distance, but the men did not see him. "Keep an eye on the sky, brother," Ralof whispered. "Once you see his eye through the mist, it's too late."
Ralof's path lead Fjornir to a hill from where he saw the enormous Hall of Valor. Around the Hall, the sky appeared to be sparkling in a soft rain of stars. A bridge of enormous bones lead to the Hall, and before the bridge stood an enormous man. As the pair approached, the enormous man walked up to Fjornir.
The man's voice boomed. "What brings you, wayfarer grim, to wander here, in Sovngarde, souls-end, Shor's gift to honored dead?"
"I pursue Alduin, the World Eater," Fjornir responded.
"A fateful errand," the man spoke. "No few have chafed to face the Worm since first he set his soul-snare here at Sovngarde's threshold. But Shor restrained our wrathful onslaught - perhaps, deep counselled, your doom he foresaw."
Fjornir scowled. "Who are you?" he asked.
"I am Tsun, shield-thane to Shor. The Whalebone Bridge he bade me guard and winnow all those souls whose heroic end sent them here, to Shor's lofty hall where welcome, well earned, awaits those I judge fit to join that fellowship of honor." Tsun bent forward. "Who are you? No shade are you, as usually here passes, but living, you dare the land of the dead. By what right do you request entry?"
"By the right of birth. I am Dragonborn."
"Ah!" Tsun's laughter vibrated the air around him. "It's been too long since last I faced a doom-driven hero of the dragon blood."
"Can I enter the Hall of Valor?" Fjornir asked.
Tsun's arms crossed in front of his chest. "Living or dead, by decree of Shor, none may pass this perilous bridge 'till I judge them worthy by the warrior's test." Tsun then gripped his battleaxe from behind his shoulder and unsheathed the massive weapon. The blade was as big as Fjornir's chest.
Fjornir readied his warhammer. As Tsun advanced, Fjornir took a deep breath, and Shouted: "FUS... RO DAH." Tsun fell back to where he began his advance, shook his head, and came at Fjornir again. His massive axe came down toward the Dragonborn, but Fjornir spun away and the blade landed in the earth. Fjornir lifted his warhammer and landed a blow at the back of Tsun's left knee. The god-man cried out – not in pain, but surprise. In another swift move, Fjornir's warhammer came down on the middle of Tsun's back, causing the god-man's body to fall flat against the ground.
Tsun began to laugh heartily. He slowly rose to his feet, leaving his battleaxe embedded in the earth. "You fought well, Dragonborn. I find you worthy." He smiled, then retrieved his axe and sheathed it. He began to walk back to his post. "It is long since one of the living has entered here. May Shor's favor follow you and your errand."
"Thank you, Tsun, shield-thane to Shor," Fjornir said. He turned to Ralof and motioned for him to follow.
"No!" Tsun shouted and turned. "Not this one." The god-man scowled at Ralof.
"He's with me," Fjornir said.
"The shade cannot pass," Tsun said.
"Shade?" asked Ralof.
"The soul is incomplete," the god-man said.
"What do you mean?" Fjornir asked. He thought that Tsun may know what had happened to Ralof's soul.
"The soul is split between Aetherius and Mundus," the god-man answered.
Fjornir turned to Ralof. "Now do you believe me?"
The reality of his situation finally hit Ralof. He appeared terrified. "What happened?" he asked.
Tsun answered. "Sovngarde called and your soul accepted, but the love of another strongly pulled. The breath of life yet enters your lungs, but the very core of you no longer lives."
"My body lives without a soul!?..." Ralof looked at Fjornir, then turned to Tsun. "What do I do?"
Tsun looked down to Ralof. He had given this speech many times before to countless other shades. "The shade must choose between bliss and trial, Aetherius or Tamriel. To choose one is to die in the other. Choose wisely, shade. In death you found tranquility from a life that brought you misery. Should you leave Sovngarde for the living plane, you will not return again. Your bones will bleach and flesh will flee; your soul will be rendered unto the Dreamsleeve."
Brynja slept with her head on Ralof's chest and arm wrapped around his torso. A jerking movement and a groan woke her. From the rising sunlight shining through the windows, she could see that Ralof was dreaming. She cupped his cheek with her hand and whispered his name.
He did not respond. His dream continued, and became more violent. When his arm swung as if wielding a weapon, Brynja jumped out of bed. "Ralof!" she shouted. Still, the man dreamed. After another swinging movement of his right arm, he calmed.
"Ralof?" Brynja spoke again. She began to worry. She watched as Ralof's fists clenched. Two fingers in his right hand pointed outward and curved in again. Pointed, then curved. His hand repeated the movement five times. His left hand remained clenched. Brynja saw the muscles of his chest ripple as if he truly wielded a weapon, perhaps fighting off some dream-demon.
Ralof's body relaxed. His fists opened and his fingers splayed out. Brynja stepped up to the bed. Again, she called his name, but Ralof still did not respond.
In a sudden and terrifying reaction to something in his dream, Ralof's back arched, his torso raised, and his lungs inhaled sharply, desperately. His eyes burst open wide. With all the strength a mortal man's lungs could spare, Ralof bolted upright, and screamed: "DRAAAGONNN!"
[Chapter title and other stuff inspired by "My Blood" by Ellie Goulding]