Wow, short chapter. Only about 3,000 words to be exact. This was so tedious to write, there's almost no action, all dialogue. (Curse you Paarthurnax!) I think i'm going to make the next chapter a filler, just to bring some diversity to the story and give a bit of breathing space from saving the world. One hint: Daedric quests ;)
What do you mean, "You can't teach me the shout!"
We refuse, Sahloknir rumbled.
This had been going on for about an hour now. On the long walk to Ivarstead Madrigal had decided to ask the Dragon's about the mystery shout to defeat Alduin.
So far it had turned up rather frustrating results.
Mu dreh ni thaarn hi, Dovahkiin. Alduin is still our liege lord. Mirmulnir added unhelpfully.
It was growing harder to control them by the day, and now they refused her of anything. Her restrained mental leash seemed to have snapped, and now the rebellious Dov ran rampant.
With a furious snarl, she blocked them out, or at least tried to.
She had been curious about the silence of the three new Dragons, but according to Mirmulnir they were young and had not even earned their names yet. She would ask the Greybeards about Dragon hierarchy when she got to High Hrothgar.
Speaking of High Hrothgar, the bleak monastery could be seen, only barely, amidst the snow bluffs and flurries of freezing wind.
It was very, very, high.
She groaned in despair as they reached the small mountain town of Ivarstead. Another day and a half of hiking.
Fun.
It was with welcome relief that the two women collapsed inside the receiving stone walls of the Greybeards home. They sat there, shivering, waiting for the heat to crawl back into their bones as Arngeir approached.
"Dovahkiin, welcome back to High Hrothgar," he greeted warmly as Madrigal stood up on numb legs.
Shaking the snow off of her shoulders, she turned to Lydia, "Wait here," she ordered. "Master Arngeir," she began. "We need to talk."
He motioned for her to follow, walking up the stairs. "What is it that troubles you, child?" he asked calmly, coming to sit in one of the many chairs scattered in the hall.
She wanted to trust Arngeir, truly, she did. Her now scaled hand burned beneath her glove.
No, not yet.
"I need to learn the shout that was used to defeat Alduin." she stated briskly.
His eyes darkened. "Where did you learn of that? Who have you been talking to?" he commanded, clenching his lined hands. He sounded afraid, and angry, more so than she had ever seen from him.
"It was recorded on Alduin's Wall." she said coolly, crossing her arms.
"The Blades! Of course." he spat. "They specialize in meddling in matters they barely understand. Their reckless arrogance knows no bounds."
The mysterious animosity between the Blades and monks looked to be mutual.
"They have always sought to turn the Dragonborn from the path of wisdom. Have you learned nothing from us? Would you simply be a tool in the hands of the Blades, to be used for their own purposes?" he announced venomously, standing to meet her eyes.
"I'm not anyone's puppet," she hissed. "I'm in this for myself and the rest of the wretched world. In fact, when I last saw Delphine, I argued with her so much I don't think they'll even bother with me." she assured, challenging the withered Nord.
"This is not about how you feel about them, it is about the fact that they will attempt to subvert you from your path." Arngeir retorted, slightly calmer upon her brusk reaction.
She struggled to cut back her fire, attempting to cool down as well. "My path is my own. If they end up leading me anywhere, it will be of my own volition." she bit out through clenched teeth.
"Consider this, the shout was used once before, and here we are again." he stated matter-of-factly. "Have you ever considered," he began softly, "that Alduin was never meant to be defeated? Those who overthrew him in ancient times only postponed the day of reckoning, they did not stop it. If the world is meant to end, so be it. Let it end and be reborn."
"I will not let him win. And if you won't help me, then i'll just find the Shout on my own." she cursed, making to turn away.
Suddenly, the stones beneath her feet began to shake and quiver. Was Arngeir - no, it couldn't be -
Einarth was speaking.
She spun back to face the previously mute monk, shock written across her features as shame spread across Arngeir's.
"Arngeir. Rok los Dovahkiin, Strundu'ul. Rok fen tinvaak Paarthurnax." whispered the raspy voice, hoarse from misuse.
"Dragonborn… wait." Arngeir called out.
She faced the man, saying nothing.
"Forgive me. I was… intemperate. I allowed my emotions to cloud my judgement. Master Einarth reminded me of my duty. The decision of whether or not to help you is not mine to make." he admitted, face downcast.
"So you can teach me the shout?" she questioned, hope rising in her chest.
"No, I cannot teach it to you,"
She was about to argue, but he cut her off.
"Because I do not know it. It is called 'Dragonrend', but it's Words of Power are unknown to us. We do not regret this loss. Dragonrend holds no place within the Way of the Voice." he finished.
"What could be so bad about it?" she queried. "I thought you knew all of the words."
Arngeir sighed, looking at her with weary eyes. "It was created by those who had lived under the unimaginable cruelty of Alduin's Dragon Cult. Their whole lives were consumed with hatred for Dragons, and they poured all of that anger and hatred into this Shout. When you learn a Shout, you take it into your very being. In a sense, you become the Shout. In order to learn and use this Shout, you will be taking this evil into yourself." he warned, eyes pleading with her.
Inside, her stomach had gone cold. Under her current… conditions, allowing more anger to fester in her seemed like one of the worst things she could do. But wouldn't she? If it meant the survival of everyone else, would she sacrifice her last vestiges of morality and justice, for this? A shout?
Maybe.
"If you don't know it, then who does?" she asked impatiently.
"Only Paarthurnax, the master of our order, can answer that question, if he so chooses."
"Who is Paarthurnax?" she inquired. The name sounded like a Dovah, but no, it couldn't be a dragon. Perhaps some incredibly long lived Nord? That sounded even more ridiculous.
Gruth Do Un Fron, Gruth Do Fin Thur, chanted Sahloknir.
Fahdon Do Lir, crowed Mirmulnir.
They called out, over and over,
Vobalaan, Vobalaan, Vobalaan, Vobalaan, Vobalaan.
"He is our leader. He surpasses us all in his mastery of the Way of the Voice." Arngeir answered calmly, unknowing to the clamor in her mind.
"Well, is there a reason why,"she winced as the Dov grew louder, "I haven't met him?"
Arngeir scrutinized her for a moment before speaking, "He lives in seclusion at the very peak of the mountain. He speaks to us only rarely, and never to outsiders. Being allowed to see him is a great privilege."
If she needed to see this Paarthurnax to gain the shout, she would gladly climb up a mountain to get it, even in this god's forsaken weather.
"Alright," she said confidently. "How do I get there?"
The fates were surely laughing at her, she thought as she stared down the violent rotating wall of wind and ice that barred the way to Paarthurnax. It really was never easy. This Paarthurnax better give her the secrets to Aetherius and then some.
Arngeir approached, glancing at the obscured path with unease. "The path to Paarthurnax lies through this gate." he motioned a robed limb to the blizzard beyond. "I will show you how to open the way."
Arngeir walked past her, standing in front of a great bonfire that warmed the frigid air around them. Einarth, Borri, and Wulfgar stood behind him, watching as silent as ever. Arngeir breathed deeply, the fringes of his grey beard whipping in the wind.
"Lok," he exhaled softly, a great crack ringing above the wind as the stone split beneath his feet, glowing bright cherry red against the snow.
"Vah," he breathed once more, another engraving of Dovahzul spreading across the ground.
"Koor," he whispered, the slashes spider webbing over the stone.
She stepped forward, stopping next to each of the glowing words below, drinking them in like fine wine as the knowledge and power flowed through her. Itching, eager, and ready for the shout, she turned to Arngeir.
"I will grant you my understanding of Clear Skies. This is your final gift from us Dragonborn. Use it well." with that said, he spread his arms wide, closing his eyes as the stream of colored energy escaped him, twisting hypnotically through the air until it reached her. It sunk in deep, burrowing its way into her soul. It was cold and clear, so sharp it took her breath away. But peaceful, serene and comforting, like jumping into a freezing lake and succumbing to the cold.
"Clear Skies will blow away the mist, but only for a time," he warned. "The path to Paarthurnax is perilous, not to be embarked upon lightly. Keep moving, stay focused on your goal, and you will reach the summit."
She didn't know why, but this whole situation felt sad somehow. Like saying goodbye to a loved one and moving on. It felt as if she was leaving the tutelage of the Greybeards behind, going off to find her future behind the swirling depths of the mountain pass.
Wiping the snowflakes from her eyes, she grabbed Lydia's arm, and step by step, walked up the stairs to the gate above. She didn't look back, nor did she falter. Upon reaching the gate she sucked down a lungful of air, the words building on her tongue.
"LOK VAH KOOR."
It was a shock wave, ringing out in the mountain air. Miraculously, the wind and snow bent beneath her voice, showing the snowy path ahead. Lydia following close behind, she marched into the unknown, prepared for whatever might greet her at the top of the mountain. She would be ready. She had to be.
She was thoroughly exhausted upon reaching the summit. It had taken the better part of an hour, fighting ice wraiths as she fought to stave off the mist. It was nerve wracking, turning around time and time again only to find the mist growing closer and closer each time.
But they were here. No bitter wind tore at their clothes, no ice wraiths leapt up to attack them, it was only calm.
Madrigal circled, glancing up at the clear azure sky. Everything was still, almost eerily so. Even the biting cold seemed to have abated. The silence weighed on her, and the mountain air was growing more difficult to breath. Where was this Paarthurnax?
Wing beats pounded through the air. No, it couldn't be possible.
She turned as a shadow passed over her. A massive Dovah, one of the biggest she had ever seen, was flying towards her.
Lydia yelped in alarm, running to hide behind a rock as Madrigal stood in awe.
Paarthurnax.
He carried an aura of stillness, much like his mountaintop home. A huge crest of jagged horns encircled his skull, giving him a rugged, powerful appearance. Wings the color of dry moss slammed into the rock above her, his serpentine neck craning downwards to gaze upon her with pale blue eyes the color of ice.
Mirmulnir, Sahloknir, and the other Dragons began raging, screeching, and howling to such a pitch that it almost brought her to her knees.
"Drem Yol Lok. Greetings, wunduniik. I am Paarthurnax," he spoke slowly, as if restraining himself, but every word was genuine, no anger or challenge laced his welcome. "Who are you? What brings you to my strunmah… my mountain?" he rumbled.
It took her a moment to find her words again. "I… was not expecting a Dragon." she said in wonder, staring dumbstruck at the Dovah before her.
"Hhmm, I am as my father Akatosh made me… as are you Dovahkiin. Tell me. Why do you come here, volaan? Why do you intrude on my meditation?" he pondered, cocking his colossal skull to one side.
"I need to learn the Shout Dragonrend. Do you know it?" she proposed.
He hummed to himself, rocking back to sit on his muscled haunches. "Drem. Patience. There are formalities that must be observed, at the first meeting of two of the Dov."
He shuffled, rotating his immense body so he was facing an old, worn down Word Wall that was nestled just against the very edge of the summit. "By long tradition, the elder speaks first. Hear my Thu'um! Feel it in your bones. Match it, if you are Dovahkiin!"
With that, he sanpped his neck down, unhinging his jaw in a mighty roar. "YOL TOOR SHUL." A torrent of white-hot flame burst from his maw, scorching the air around them. His flames blasted against the wall, igniting the weathered Dovahzul that was scratched across the surface.
Excitement fueling her every step, she bounded up to the wall, eagerly tracing the glowing markings with her eyes. Yol branded itself across her vision.
"A gift, Dovahkiin. Yol. Understand Fire as the Dov do." The same tendrils of light that the Greybeards had transferred to her now emanated from him, spreading out in great, thick threads. They felt stronger, somehow, like whips and cords of lava branding her flesh as it became a part of her.
Paarthurnax raised his head in challenge, "Now, show me what you can do. Greet me not as Elf, but as Dovah!" he thundered.
Obeying his command, Madrigal reared back, heat building in her chest. "YOL," she shouted. A stream of flame spewed from her lips, flowing over Paarthurnax's body in a rush of heat.
Her insides were on fire, her lips scorched. Everything was burning with a comforting warmth and a bright fury, making her want to attack someone and fall asleep at the same time.
When the flames spluttered and died, Paarthurnax purred in satisfaction, shaking his body to dislodge any stray embers left in his scales. "Aaah… yes! Sossedov los mul. The Dragonblood runs strong in you. It is long since I had the pleasure of speech with one of my own kind." he cajoled, once more turning to look at her.
"Ah, I have expected you. would not come all this way for tinvaak with an old Dovah. No. You seek your weapon against Alduin." he concluded, peering at her with his pale eyes.
She huffed, nodding her head at Dov. "Arngeir tried his best to keep me from reaching you."
He closed his eyes, humming to himself. "Yes," he rumbled, opening his frosty gaze once more. "They are very protective of me. Bahlaan Fahdonne."
Paarthurnax lapsed into silence, watching her attentively. "I do not know the Thu'um you seek. Krosis. It cannot be known to me." he stated simply.
"What do you mean, 'You can't teach it to me?' she spluttered, throwing her hands up in frustration. How hard was it to find this one damnable Shout?
"Drem, child. I am not quite done yet." he chided calmly. "Your kind - Joorre - mortals - created it as a weapon against the Dov… the Dragons. Our hadrimme, our minds, cannot even… comprehend it's concepts." he said with a shudder that shook the earth beneath her feet.
She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, crossing her arms as a scowl spread across her masked face. "How do you expect me to find it, then? If you don't know it, and the Greybeards don't know it, hell even -" she stopped as thoughts of Mirmulnir and Sahloknir crossed her mind. She coughed in an attempt to hide her blunder, "No one else that i've talked to knows it."
The old Dov cocked his substantial head, studying her once more. He blinked his pale eyes once, twice, three times. "Tell me," he asked. "Why do you want to learn this Thu'um?"
She shrugged her shoulders, meeting his gaze defiantly. "Why not? He's a challenge, an obstacle, and-" she cast her arm out, motioning to the mountain tops and snow around them. "I live in the world he so desperately wants to destroy."
Paarthurnax chuckled, with what she could only assume was a draconic smile spreading across his scaled face. "Indeed, although some would say that all things must end, so that the next can come to pass.
Perhaps this world is simply the Egg of the next kalpa?" he pondered. "Lein vokiin? Would you stop the next world from being born?"
She laughed acidly, "Why should I care about the next world? It will just have to take care of itself."
"Paaz. A fair answer. Ro fus… maybe you only work to balance the forces that work to quicken the end of this world." he nodded slowly, shuffling his wings as he did so. "Even we who ride the currents of Time cannot see past Time's end. Wuldsetiid los tahrodiis. Those who hasten the end, may delay it. Those who delay the end, may bring it closer."
She scuffed her feet across the frozen ground, frowning. Her urge to move and do something, do anything, was beginning to wear her patience.
Paarthurnax, reading her souring mood, spoke once more. "You have indulged my weakness for speech long enough. Krosis. Now I will answer your question."
The old Dov shuffled awkwardly over to the Word Wall, folding up his great wings and promptly laying on the snow. Curiously, she noted, the snow around him began to melt almost instantly. She debated it for a second or so, but eventually she too sat down on the now semi-frozen ground.
"Do you know why I live here, at the peak of the Monahven - what you name the Throat of the World?" he asked, blowing puffs of vapor into the air with his every breath.
She chuckled, amused by the question. "No, I thought Dragons liked mountains."
He closed his eyes, resting his armored skull against the earth. "Hmmm… True. But few now remember that this was the very spot where Alduin was defeated by the ancient Tongues. Vahrukt unslaad… perhaps none but me now remember how he was bested."
She nodded, "With Dragonrend, right?"
He furrowed his celadon colored brows, cracking open his pale blue orbs. "Yes and no. Viik nuz ni kron. Alduin was not truly defeated, either. If he was, you would not be here seeking to… end him once more. The Nords of those days used the Dragonrend Shout to cripple Alduin. But this was not enough. Ok mulaag unslaad.
It was the Kel - the Elder Scroll. They used it to… cast him adrift on the currents of Time."
Elder Scroll. Elder Scroll, it was on the tip of her tongue. She had to have heard it somewhere, it sounded familiar.
She scooted a bit closer to the intense heat wafting off of Paarthurnax, back facing him as she asked, "What is an Elder Scroll?"
He hummed again, vibrating his entire body. "How to explain it in your tongue? The Dov have words for such things that the Joorre do not.
It is an… artifact from outside time." he began slowly. "It does not exist, but it has always existed. Rah wahlaan. They are…" he was quiet for a moment, deep in concentration. "They are fragments of creation. The Kelle… Elder Scrolls, as you name them, they have often been used for prophecy. Indeed, your prophecy came from an Elder Scroll. But this is only a small part of their power. Zofaas suleyk."
"So you're telling me that the ancient Nords sent Alduin forward in time?" she asked incredulously, twisting to face him, mouth agape.
"Hmm… Not intentionally. Some hoped he would be gone forever, forever lost."
"Meyye." he drawled scathingly.
"I knew better. Tiid bo amativ. Time flows ever forward. One day he would surface."
He lashed his spaded tail, whipping flurries of snow into the air. "That is why I have lived here. For thousands of mortal years I have waited. I knew where he would emerge, but not when."
She frowned, "This is incredibly interesting, Paarthurnax, but how does this help me?"
"Bah! Young Dov always eager to fly away and adventure." he grumbled.
She shrugged apologetically.
He sighed, "Tiid krent. Time was… shattered here because of what the ancient Nords did to Alduin. If you brought that Kel, the Elder Scroll back here… to the Tiid-Ahraan, the Time-Wound…" he motioned with his tail to a glimmering, shifting veil of warping snow and light. "With the Elder Scroll that was used to break time, you may be able to… cast yourself back. To the other end of the break. You could learn Dragonrend from those that created it." he concluded, albeit a bit smugly at his own genius.
"Do you know where I can find this Elder Scroll?" she asked, standing up as she brushed the snow that had gathered on her shoulders and lap.
"Krosis. No. I know little of what has passed below in the long years I have lived here." he grunted, blowing copious amounts of steam into the air. "You are likely better informed than I."
She grinned ruefully, "The College of Winterhold might know."
"Trust your instincts, Dovahkiin. Your blood will show you the way."
With a simple farewell, she said goodbye to Paarthurnax. Currently, she was striding towards a certain rock that hid a certain Nord.
"Get up Lydia," she called out exuberantly. "We're going to do some studying."
The only reply was a loud groan.