The first thing I noticed about High Hrothgar was the emptiness. It felt almost like the place had been completely deserted and we had walked all the way up this gods-forsaken mountain for nothing. My feet rested on stone that was worn down with countless centuries of use, and I scuffed the tip of my boot across it absentmindedly, expecting to shift dust around and finding nothing but smooth, cool stone. If it was even possible, it seemed like the stone walls were muting our sounds. Sethys moved next to me and I didn't even notice until he pointed at something moving slowly in the shadows.

I looked back at both of them, and Beryn shrugged. We could handle whatever lived in this monastery, if it was hostile. I led our group forward and was confronted with a voice, old and tired, but still authoritative.

"So. A Dragonborn appears, at this moment in the turning of the age." his voice sounds almost accusatory, like I'm some kind of false Dragonborn who just came all the way up here to pass off my fake Dragonborn scam.

"I'm here to answer your summons, and I want answers." I snapped.

"We will see if you truly do have the gift." the old monk said in a cryptic tone. "Go on then, Dragonborn. Let us hear your Voice."

At first I was confused; I'd been talking this whole time. And then I remembered the Voice voice, for Shouting. I only knew one Word, Fus, and almost as soon as I thought it, I had Shouted it, "Fus!"

The Graybeards who had gathered to watch staggered, and the one who had first spoken to me said, almost reverent, "Dragonborn. It is you. Welcome to High Hrothgar. I am Master Arngeir-"

"I have questions." I interrupted. "What in Oblivion does it mean to be Dragonborn, and why in Meridia's name was I chosen for it?"

The Graybeard who had been talking to me raised his eyebrows, as though surprised I had dared to interrupt him, but he replied, "We are here to help guide you in pursuit of what your Dragon Blood means. Dragon Blood, Dovahsos, is a gift from Akatosh that he bestows upon a mortal during times of incredible crisis. No one can say why exactly Akatosh chooses a particular mortal," the Graybeard's tone sounds apologetic, "and it has been debated through the centuries whether the Dragon Blood is a gift or a curse."

"Great." I muttered. "I'm either blessed with the greatest thing the gods have to offer, or I've been damned with their most vile curse." With a sigh, I said, "I suppose I'm ready to learn more."

"You have already shown that you are Dragonborn." Master Arngeir begins to pace, very slowly, and my heart rate rises out of subconscious reaction. "But do you have the discipline and temperament required to learn?"

"Who can say?" I shrugged. "I'd like to think I'm a fairly quick learner, but this is something that's somewhat outside my range of experience."

Arngeir gives me a small, wry grin. "As it is with most everyone else on Nirn. But the Dragonborn is the exception to all the rules: to you, the Dragon Speech is as natural as breathing, and most can learn it almost without effort."

"Then what am I to learn next?" I asked, crossing my arms. I still had quite a few questions, but I wouldn't even know where to begin asking. I had a feeling the question I wanted to ask the most, 'how do I get rid of this situation?', wouldn't be received well under any circumstances.

"I can tell you have questions." Master Arngeir waved his hand at me to speak my mind.

I hesitated for a moment before I blurted out, "Why have dragons started coming back now? Does it have anything to do with me?" It would be me that causes the world to end with just my existence, I groused. I guess that means I'd better find a way to stop it.

"No doubt." Arngeir replied grimly. "The return of the dragons and a Dragonborn at the same time is no mere coincidence. You should focus on honing your Voice, and all will be made clear."

I narrowed my eyes warily. That was far too cryptic for my liking. "And there's nothing else you can tell me?"

"No. Not now." Arngeir replied, seeming to shut down my attempt to press the subject further. "You will now learn the second word of Unrelenting Force, Ro, which means 'balance' in the dragon tongue. You will combine this power with that you have already gained, and it will focus your Thu'um more sharply."

So much for the rest of my questions.

One of the other Graybeards stepped forward and appeared to cast something on the stone, saying the Word Ro in a voice that growled as deeply as a dragon's. There was a crack and a puff of dust, and suddenly there were dragon runes on the floor. They started to glow a pulsing orange, almost like they were trying to catch fire, and without my knowledge or consent, the Word was blazing across my mind, embedding itself into my subconscious forever.

Ro.

Balance.

"Master Einarth will gift you with his knowledge of Ro." Master Arngeir informed me. At first, I was utterly terrified that the agony I had experienced outside the watchtower would return again, but this knowledge felt smoother, more...compatible, I suppose is the best word for it, with my human body, rather than a being that defied all attempts at description. A human with a dragon's soul. Or dragon blood. Or both. Could be neither, for all I knew, but if it was neither, then what was it?

The whole situation was just so terribly confusing, and I wanted nothing more than for this not to have happened in the first place, but I supposed by now I had passed the point of no return.

"Now, you will demonstrate your new Thu'um." Arngeir announced. Another of the Graybeards stepped forward and Shouted, "Fiik, Lo SAH!" And a spectral clone appeared.

I supposed I was meant to use my new Word of Power, so I opened my mouth and found, pleasantly surprised, that instead of the Words forcing themselves from my mouth, I seemed to have nearly complete control over what I said. "Fus, Ro!"

The spectral clone disappeared. I felt slightly winded, but was able to recover fairly quickly. "Well done." Master Arngeir praised. "Again."

And so, I demonstrated my new Word two more times successfully before Arngeir suggested I learn a completely new Shout. I was instructed to follow a certain 'Master Borri' and he would presumably teach me the new Word. Sethys and Beryn stuck close by me, uncertain of what to do or even if their prescence had been noticed by the Graybeards in the slightest. They looked distinctly uncomfortable, and for once, I empathized with them, but I didn't have it any easier right now than they did.

I was taught, and subsequently demonstrated, my new Shout, one that would carry me a short distance in a very quick amount of time. Upon further questioning, I discovered that were I to learn the other two Words, I could theoretically carry myself much farther. Especially with my small size and slight figure.

My last trial was to retrieve an ancient horn from a tomb called Ustengrav, in Hjaalmarch. I curled my lip with distaste. Hjaalmarch was one of my least favorite places to visit; the marshes and the ever-present mist was enough to give the whole place a sheer aura that said 'stay away from this place'. Sound advice. But if the Graybeards needed me to go there, then I would.

As the three of us left, I found myself saying, "You don't have to travel with me anymore if you don't want to."

"What?" Beryn and Sethys asked, disbelieving. I didn't know what was so hard to believe about my statement. I figured they'd have jumped at a chance to escape me. Most people tend to do that around me. But it's Beryn, not Sethys, that asks, "What do you mean, we don't have to travel with you?"

"Just what I said." I shrugged. "I would've jumped at a chance to escape traveling with someone like me. After all, we never specified how long you'd be following me in my journey. Now that I've talked to the Graybeards, you don't necessarily need to be around anymore, if you don't want to be."

"Do you want us to travel with you?" Beryn queries.

It's an interesting question. I had never actually considered that anyone might actually want to stick around me for an extended period of time. People that did usually ended up dead. Or wishing they were. I'd like to think I've smoothed out some rougher edges over the past few years, which is why I've tolerated them for this long, but then the thought reoccurs to me that they are my friends. They really, genuinely do not want to abandon me. Well, to the best of my knowledge, anyway.

"Well." I said, somewhat at a loss for words. How to tell them I actually do want them to join me without appearing weak? I'll have to tiptoe very carefully around this. "I suppose...it would be nice having two people to watch my back. And, uh, I..." I trail off while trying to come up with more valid reasons.

"You...?" Beryn prompted, raising her eyebrows.

"Let's just go." I muttered, adjusting my bow before setting off, back down those countless unsteady steps. Beryn grinned slyly behind me, unseen by myself or her brother. One day, she would get me to admit I enjoyed having friends.

Our journey back down the mountain was quiet, and I realized the entire day had felt anticlimactic. I'd been expecting to walk up to that monastery and have the Graybeards tell me that I was in for a great, grand destiny that I would only comprehend a tiny bit of before being sent on a near-impossible mission. Rather, it had felt like the first in a very long series of lessons. As the moons continued to rise-for night had fallen while we were still inside High Hrothgar-I started to wonder if I could actually do this. If I could actually be a big enough hero to stop the dragons. If I was actually good enough to cut it.

I snorted to myself. Fat chance. More likely, I'd end up trying to do something heroic and get eaten whole by a dragon. With my luck.

As we passed by Vilemyr Inn, I turned and asked the pair of them, "Do you want to rest, or can we keep going?"

Sethys and Beryn exchanged a glance before Sethys replied, "I think we're fine to travel if you are."

"I'm fine," I warned them, "but I can probably travel for a much longer distance without rest than the two of you. If you need to stop, don't hesitate to tell me so."

Beryn shrugged and Sethys didn't respond, which led me to believe they likely, if not certainly, wouldn't tell me if they got tired. I sighed inwardly. That meant I would have to guess when they needed rest, and I was absolute garbage at gauging people like that. I'd learned to size people up, certainly, but only as potential larceny targets, not whether or not they needed sleep. It was plainly obvious that on this journey, I'd have my work cut out for me. Not just my combat skills, but my people skills as well.

People skills, I scowled to myself. Those are just about nonexistent these days. This will have to be a good opportunity for me to improve.

Several hours passed, in which there was very little conversation and a great deal of tense silence. It wasn't like when all three of us had first met, and the tense silence had signified anger and distrust. This silence signified the thoughts no one wanted to say aloud, that we'd well and truly gotten ourselves into quite the tangle of events without even trying.

"Septim for your thoughts?" Sethys asked. I hadn't even known that he'd started walking beside me, but I'd been lost in thought. We'd managed to walk from Ivarstead down to the badlands of Eastmarch during the course of the night. Dawn peeked carefully at the horizon, like it was afraid to catch us weary travelers in its cheerful light.

I shook my head. "Nothing worth sharing."

He seemed about to respond when he stopped and pointed at a trail of smoke that was very nearly disguised by the pale gray of approaching daylight. "Is that a giant's camp?"

I squinted my eyes. "Looks that way. We'd be better off staying away if we're hoping to keep our brains inside our heads."

Sethys subconsciously rubbed the back of his head with a wince, and we were about to keep walking when Beryn suddenly got an interested glint in her eyes. "Did you say a giant's camp is up ahead? I've always wanted to see one up close!"

"Beryn," I cautioned, "that's a bad idea on so many levels I can't even begin to describe all of them."

"Oh, come on!" Beryn protested. "Some giants are friendly! I read about it!"

"Yes, some may be friendly, but we have no way of knowing if these are. They could be one of the stricter camps." I said carefully, wondering what will convince Beryn to leave the camp be. Before I can even attempt to suggest a reason why she shouldn't explore the camp, she's gone, a pale slate-gray flash in apprentice mage robes darting right up to the camp before Sethys or I can stop her.

"Beryn!" Sethys yelled, before I could stop him. If the giants hadn't been aware of Beryn's prescence before, they certainly would be now, with Sethys drawing attention to her. She automatically spun around to the sound of her name and didn't even notice the giant coming up behind her with its club raised until she felt the vibrations in the ground. She whipped around and screamed, a high-pitched sound that had even me ready to cover my ears. The giant groaned with the piercing sound and raised the club higher for a killing blow.

"Beryn! No!" Sethys wailed, almost certain he was about to see his sister crushed to nothing under the giant's club.

I swore and whipped my shield from my back, tossing my bow into the dirt.

Beryn cringed, closed her eyes, and made a futile attempt to shield herself from the club, descending at an alarming speed.

"Wuld!"

There was an ear-shattering, resonant and metallic clang, then deafening silence.