HIGH HROTHGAR

Katjaa

"I am Katjaa Amarie." As she spoke, she tried to project a sense of importance into her voice. She couldn't tell if it was working on the Greybeard. "I am answering your summons."

The Greybeard nodded. "I am Master Arngeir. I have been chosen to speak to you, as the other Greybeards are unable to speak without Shouting." He waved his arm towards the door into High Hrothgar. "Now, come with me. We shall see if you truly have the gift."

Katjaa almost lost it. What does he mean, 'truly have the gift'? I'm obviously the Dragonborn! Who else would be Shouting? She wanted to scream those words into Arngeir's face. She wanted to prove herself by knocking him off the mountain.

And she almost did. But then Katjaa remembered what Rimion had said in Ivarstead. About her dragon soul giving her a feeling of entitlement, an urge to show that no one was better than her at anything.

A silent struggle began inside her. It felt like her anger was the weight of the world, and she was underneath all of it, trying to keep it all in check. Katjaa could imagine a dragon flying around her, laughing coldly at her in its dragon language. Its scale color was that of dirt; its size was somewhere between the dragon in Helgen and the dragon in Whiterun.

With more effort than she thought she could afford, Katjaa managed to subdue her rage. "Okay," she squeaked out.

Master Arngeir looked her in the eyes, as if knowing what she was going through. Was that a test of self-control? He looked away too fast for her to try and get an answer.

He started up the steps to High Hrothgar. Katjaa followed instantly, eager to prove to Arngeir that she was the Dragonborn.

"What about us?"

She turned around and nearly jumped. Katjaa had completely forgotten about all of her companions. Including Arenar, whose beautiful blue eyes were staring into her own. Katjaa couldn't believe that she had been angry with him earlier that day, when he had asked about her scar. It's not like it was unwarranted. I was asking about Lielle, after all.

Katjaa had planned on telling Arenar how she felt about him during the trip to High Hrothgar. When he had killed the dragon in Whiterun because she had been to injured by the beast to manage it, she wanted to shout aloud her affection to him. He was her hero, one that would never let anything happen to her. When they first met, she had thought this an annoying trait. Only when the dragon collapsed into the ground did she realize that it was his best one.

Being a handsome warrior helped him out, too.

But then Arenar had revealed more about Lielle in the Vilemyr Inn. That she had died by the hand of the Thalmor agent that was looking for Katjaa and that she was the only woman he had ever loved.

At that moment, Katjaa was scared that he wouldn't feel the same way. So she kept her feelings a secret from him.

Earlier that day, she had decided to learn more about Lielle to see if she had a chance of becoming the second woman that Arenar had ever loved. But instead Katjaa learned that she was very similar to Lielle, at least in appearance.

The fear of never being loved was then suddenly replaced. What if he loved me because we looked alike, instead of because of who I am?

Part of Katjaa wanted to just continue following Master Arngeir, ignoring Arenar and the others in the process. Another part of her wished that when her throat had been cut two years earlier in her and her family's home, she wouldn't have miraculously survived losing so much blood.

Her dragon soul was urging her to go on—to leave them all behind in order to become stronger in her training with the Greybeards. Her heart was telling her to bring them with her, especially Arenar.

"Master Arngeir," Katjaa began, finally deciding what she would do. "What of my companions?"

Arngeir stopped climbing the steps a moment later, taking his time to turn around. He looked at Katjaa, but his expressionless face didn't allow her any access to what he was thinking. He then moved his attention to the group that Katjaa brought with her, as if analyzing each one of them.

His face hardened, and Katjaa knew what his answer would be just before he spoke. "They cannot come in."

She opened her mouth to argue, but he was already walking towards the door again. He opened the door and paused, noticing only then that Katjaa hadn't followed him when he had turned back around.

"You're going to let us in," Kole said. He slid the pack o that he had been carrying all day off his shoulder and showed it to Arngeir. "Else your supplies will end up at the bottom of this mountain, and you and the other Greybeards will starve to death."

Arngeir looked unfazed by the threat. "Death comes to us all, eventually. Go ahead—keep our food. Let the dragons raze Skyrim to the ground, all because you were selfish."

"Me, selfish?" Kole repeated. "I'm sure there's plenty of room in your temple for four more people, yet you refuse to allow us in."

"Kole, hand him the pack," Arenar asked. "There's no need to make such a fuss about this. We can just return to Ivarstead."

Katjaa wanted to object, but Kole was faster. "I did not come with all of you just to turn around and head back when some old man refused to give us shelter."

"You came with because you deemed yourself a dragon expert," Arenar reminded him. "Ivarstead might be attacked again. If that happens, it won't do us any good to be nearly half a day away from the village."

Rimion raised his hand, as if asking for permission to speak. "But what if a dragon attacks High Hrothgar? Then we'll be just as far and unable to help if we're sitting on our asses in Ivarstead."

"No dragon would be foolish enough to attack High Hrothgar," Arngeir answered. "Only one would dare face Grandmaster Paarthurnax alone." He looked at Katjaa and continued. "Come now. We shouldn't waste any time."

Katjaa didn't move. "There's no reason that they can't come in."

"They will distract you from the path of the Way of the Voice," Arngeir explained. "Even now, before your journey has truly begun, they prevent you from entering High Hrothgar. This is the reason for our isolation, and the reason your companions will not come in."

Don't back down.

The voice that spoke to her wasn't her own. It was ancient and powerful—each word was spoken with an intense amount of pride and confidence. Katjaa knew it had to be her dragon soul influencing her, and like nearly every time she had heard it she was unable to resist.

"Either all of us come in, or none of us," Katjaa muttered defiantly.

"Katjaa," Arenar said, "you don't have—"

Arngeir swung the door to High Hrothgar open and stepped aside. "If that is the way it must be. All of you may enter, if that is the Dragonborn's request."

Katjaa smiled. It was still odd to be referred to as Dragonborn, but it was nice that the title would influence people so easily.

Katjaa, being the closest of her group to the door, entered first. The rest followed suit, though Kole stopped and spoke soft words with Arngeir for a moment. Arngeir nodded, accepting the supply pack then shutting the door behind him.

High Hrothgar's stone architecture couldn't be very well seen in the dark temple, but the interior was large and spacious. Two hallways diverged to the left and right from the center of the room, but Katjaa couldn't see far down them. In the center of the room were three more robed figures, but they didn't seem all that interest in seeing the Dragonborn.

They should be bowing on their knees.

Katjaa stopped in front of the three Greybeards just as Arngeir joined them and made it four. She looked over her shoulder, spotting her companions still near the door. Lydia looked mystified, being in the presence of such distinguished Nordic figures. Rimion winked encouragingly. Kole assumed his normal expression that conveyed little to no emotion. I wonder what he said to Arngeir?

Then finally, her eyes rested on Arenar. His smile was affectionate—one that made her knees threaten to shake violently. Katjaa had to turn away in fear that she would end up lost in his eyes, though part of her wanted that.

Her eyes ended up on Master Arngeir. For the briefest of seconds, he seemed annoyed or frustrated that again she had been distracted by her companions. Katjaa wondered if he had been right after all and that they shouldn't have been allowed in.

He is wrong—no wise man would accuse a dov of error.

"The last Dragonborn on Tamriel was Martin Septim, descendant of Talos Stormcrown." Arngeir word's echoed throughout the temple, making it seem as if he spoke to Katjaa from a thousand different angles. "But he, like most of his lineage, only had the blood of a dragon. This made him unique among men, to be blessed by the gods in this way. It allowed him to become the Avatar of Akatosh and end the Oblivion Crisis.

"It did not, however, allow him to Shout. Only those blessed with both the blood and soul of a dragon have the inborn gift to use their Voice like a dragon. Through many years of training and meditation, a normal man can do the same. A Dragonborn—Dovahkiin, in the language of the dragons—can learn to project their Thu'um in seconds.

"Katjaa Amarie, you have been called by the Greybeards. Jurgen Windcaller was our founder; it was he who discovered the Way of the Voice. Hundreds of years have passed, but ever since, we have waited for a true Dragonborn to teach. And we believe that you are the one we have waited for. Dragons have returned to Tamriel, and we must act, despite it conflicting with our peaceful ways. Anyone can kill a dragon, but only you can ensure they die forever; only you can save Tamriel from the end times.

"But first, you must prove to us who you are. Show us, Dragonborn—let us taste your Voice."

Katjaa gulped. She hadn't Shouted since the day of the festival in Whiterun, which had caused her to sleep for almost half the day. Fear of exhausting herself beyond the ability to fight had prevented her from Shouting during the battles against the bandits or the trolls.

But now she had no choice. Katjaa exhaled deeply and faced the Greybeards. All four of them looked prepared for her Thu'um. Here goes...

"FUS!"

A wave of energy was expelled from her mouth and flew towards the Greybeards. Immediately Katjaa stumbled, though she managed to stay standing.

The Nords she Shouted at, however, were blown to the ground. One of them fell into a group of pots and urns, smashing them into small pieces. Arngeir grunted as his rear slammed onto the floor.

Oh gods, they are going to kill me.

They should be impressed with how much power you have—for a mortal.

To Katjaa's surprise, once they were back on their feet, each of the Greybeards were grinning ear to ear. Arngeir began clapping, prompting his silent fellows to do so as well.

"Dragonborn," Arngeir said as the round of applause continued, "it is you!"

"I thought you would be mad—"

"Mad?" Arngeir repeated. "I've never had to face a Thu'um that strong. Even after years of training, our Voices are no match for yours." He slowly stopped clapping; the others did so too. "We will do our best to teach you how to use your gift in fulfillment of your destiny."

Katjaa wiped a drop of sweat from her brow. "My destiny? Isn't it to kill the dragons?"

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

"Wow, that was really corny," Katjaa heard someone from her group whisper.

"This is not the place for jokes," Kole whispered back, likely at Rimion.

"You have shown that you are Dragonborn; you have the inborn gift." Arngeir began walking around her in a circle, as if evaluating her. "But do you have the discipline and temperament to follow the path laid out for you? That remains to be seen."

You need no discipline, and to say otherwise is traitorous.

"I can do whatever you can do," Katjaa boasted. "And that will be seen."

Arngeir huffed. "Do not let your inner dragon lead you astray. The beast that your soul came from was likely one of the dragons slain during the Dragon Wars. It will not want a mortal to succeed at anything, much less the one that it is trapped in."

It took a hundred men to kill me—in my sleep! And they didn't even do it properly!

Quiet! "Sorry, Master Arngeir. Sometimes it is difficult to keep it contained."

Arngeir nodded. "Let's continue. Without training, you have already taken the first steps towards projecting your Voice into a Thu'um. Now..." He stopped a few paces away from her. "Let us see if you are willing and able to learn.

"As you should know, when you Shout, you speak in the language of dragons. Thus, your dragon blood and soul give you an inborn ability to learn how to use their language as you see fit. Most Dragonborn, however, use their Voice as a weapon."

One of the three quiet Greybeards stepped forward. He looked at the ground in front of Katjaa and Shouted. "RO."

At first, nothing happened. Then the ground began to glow, tracing out what looked like the scratchings that had been on the Dragon Wall in Bleak Falls Barrow.

"Ro means 'Balance' in the dragon tongue," Arngeir explained. "When spoke in unison with a similar word, such as Fus, it creates a much more grand effect by focusing your Thu'um more sharply."

The letters grew in brightness then, just as in Bleak Falls Barrow when she was reading the Dragon Wall, a light burning sensation from nowhere tingled inside her.

I have forgotten much of the language of the dov. You should learn all of it for me.

The glowing letters faded seconds later. "Very good. You learned a new word like a master. You truly do have the gift."

Well, duh.

Agreed. He isn't as smart as he appears.

"But learning a word is only the first step," Arngeir continued. "You must unlock its meaning through constant practice in order to Shout it."

Katjaa sighed. "But I thought—"

"That is how the rest of us learn Shouts," Arngeir added. "As Dragonborn, you can absorb a slain dragon's life force and knowledge directly."

Mirmulnir—the dov that you absorbed at the tower. His soul was weak, much like its master, but it was enough to remember some of what I've forgotten.

"However, vigorous training has allowed us to pass one pieces of information. To teach you further, Master Einarth will allow you to tap into his understanding of Ro."

The Greybeard that had taught her the word 'Ro' moved in front of her. His cold, startling eyes locked into Katjaa's. He folded his arms and created an expression of immense concentration. His body emitted an orange and blue light that surrounded her own, much like the soul of Mirmulnir had when she had absorbed it.

These Greybeards are much stronger than they appear, but they don't want to use their power for domination. How dare they squander the power stolen from the dov!

The light ended. Katjaa felt a little less exhausted, as if the new knowledge had given her a second wind. Master Einarth stepped back, returning to the other two Greybeards that could not speak.

"Now let us see how quickly you can master your new Thu'um," Arngeir said. "Use Fus and Ro together to strike down the apparition."

A new Greybeard came forward. "FIIK-LO-SAH!" A ghostly figure appeared across the room from Katjaa. It took the shape of a cloaked man, possibly a recreation of the Greybeard.

Katjaa readied herself, expecting that the extra word would exhaust her more than Shouting a single one would. She planted one foot behind her to have more stability.

She closed her eyes just as she Shouted "FUS-RO!"

The next thing Katjaa knew, she was on the ground. A distant voice was calling out her name, but she slipped into unconsciousness before she could respond.

Her eyes opened to find Arenar kneeling over her, concern spread across his face. The rest of her group and the Greybeards all stood behind him, each one looking confused as to why Katjaa had fainted.

"Are you alright?" Arenar asked.

Katjaa nodded to the best of her ability, but it was a lie. She felt like she had faced a Nord in a drinking contest and was now suffering the worse hangover of her life.

Something is wrong with you.

But what?

Katjaa tried to push herself off the ground, but her arms were limp and useless. It was as if the Shouting had paralyzed her, but she could still feel all of her body so it must have been something else.

Arenar took off his pack and, while carefully holding Katjaa's head, slid it under her so that her unprotected skull wouldn't be lying on the stone floor. I bet I hit the ground hard.

"What happened?" Katjaa asked, looking to Arngeir for an answer.

The Nord watched her carefully, like an alchemist would when studying the effects of a homemade potion. "I honestly don't know. My best educated guess would be that, for some reason, using the Voice saps away your energy."

"Is it supposed to do that?" Rimion asked.

Arngeir shook his head. "Us Greybeards have a limit on how often we can shout. Meditation and training have allowed us to do it frequently, but our mortal souls can only do so much. The Dragonborn, like a dragon, should be able to Shout however much they choose without restraint or restriction. At least, that is how the previous Dragonborn have always been, according to our ancient texts."

"But why?" Katjaa inquired.

"Again, I can't say for certain." Arngeir was quiet for a while, probably thinking of a possible reason. "Perhaps the gods have been weakened by the return of the dragons, and were unable to give you the full blessing of dragon blood and soul."

His voice sounded uncertain to Katjaa, but it was the better than no excuse. "So what does that mean? Am I not really Dragonborn?"

I am a testament that you have been blessed with my soul.

"No, you must be Dragonborn," Arngeir said, this time with a reassuring tone. "The only mortals that can absorb dragon souls are Dragonborn. And though it rendered you immobile, you did successfully learn Ro in seconds, which is impossible for us."

"Is there a way for her to use the Shouts more frequently?" Kole asked. "That way she can use them in a fight without knocking herself out?"

Arngeir nodded. "Meditation has allowed us to do so. Some of our texts claim worship of Talos, a Dragonborn himself, would improve the ability to Shout without repercussion. Ever since the ban on Talos worship, pilgrims have presented us amulets that express their devotion to him. We have no idea if they work though, as we wear no jewelry ourselves."

"No jewelry?" Rimion repeated. "But you gotta accessorize!"

Katjaa smiled. She felt bad for treating Rimion so poorly during the trip to Ivarstead, especially since it had been the second time she had done so. He's a good man, no matter what had happened in his past.

"Would there be any Amulet of Talos with the mass of supplies outside?" Lydia asked. Arngeir nodded. "I'll be right back. Let me see if I can find you one."

Katjaa watched her housecarl walk towards the entrance and felt grateful to have her. Not only because Lydia was retrieving an amulet for her, one that they weren't all too sure would help, but because of her quick feet during the troll fight. Had she not been there with her shield, Katjaa feared that the troll might have cut her in two.

"I'd advise that you have some rest first, before we continue your training," Arngeir said.

"I... I can't move much," Katjaa admitted.

Instantly she was being picked up by Arenar. "I'll carry you to a bed," he said. Katjaa felt so safe and protected in his arms that halfway to the beds she was already sleeping.