Chapter 29: The Guardians
Aislinn did not even try to suppress the streams of tears flowing down her cheeks. So many innocent people. Young and old, people who had helped many, some who had even helped her, people who had families, people who loved and cared. And they were dead, all because of some twisted plot of an insane Aldmer who had decided that he needed her to succeed. Yes, if it wasn't for him, she might have never found a way to stop Alduin, but that did not justify what he had just done. How could he be so cruel?
She was angry, so angry that she barely paid attention to anything around her. In fact, she was unable to, even if she tried, for there was a complete, impenetrable darkness surrounding her whole being. The place she had entered was pitch black, and in all her life she had not lived a night like this. One would have to erase the sun, the stars, the moons and everything from the skies and prevent the cities of Nirn from lighting fires at night to achieve this level of darkness, and maybe even then it would not have reached it.
The ground beneath her feet was smooth, but surprisingly, no sound came from the contact with her daedric boots, and eventually it made her restless. The place was definitely different from everything she had encountered before, seemingly defiling the laws that applied to the world she knew. Ah, but what was she thinking? Recently, everything in her life denied her understanding of common sense, so why should this place make an exception? Odahviing had told her that even the dragons she would have to challenge for the Elder Scroll Shout would be extraordinary in power and mind.
Suddenly she realized she did not even know which way she was going. There was nothing at all to support her at her sides, nothing she could lean on, and the ground was so smooth that she could not use any crevice or protrusion to guide her step. She might as well be going around in circles instead of advancing forward, left to roam this strange darkness forever until she would either go insane or starve to death. Just how in the name of Talos would she know that her steps led her in the right direction?
"Laas Yah Nir!" she let a whisper come out of her mouth and it sounded suffocated, suppressed to a silent squeal which faded quickly into absolute silence. But the Shout served its purpose and she scowled when three presences appeared around her as their souls emitted light glow dyed in the color of blood. And they were big and overwhelming.
"Ah, that was sooner than I expected," a voice echoed. It was old and crisp, and it spoke of great battles, and power and eons of waiting. "Our little Dovakhiin catches on fast and spoils the fun."
"Do not worry, Riisiljun, the fun is not over yet," another voice replied, this one softer and deeper. It almost sounded soothing and Aislinn had a hard time believing it belonged to a dragon.
"Come, little Dovakhiin," the first voice beckoned. "Come and conquer us. We have been waiting for you."
The crimson lights dissolved into darkness as the effects of the Shout wore off. Aislinn was now feeling slightly annoyed at the mocking tone the dragon used, for she knew she could not limit herself to using just this one Shout if she wanted to defeat the three guardians, and the beast was aware of it. But how would she even locate them in such darkness? She was certain that they had a way of telling her position, for this was their realm and they must have spent thousands of years here. It was not fair.
"So, you want an Elder Scroll," the crisp voice said calmly as though it was simply enjoying a conversation over a cup of tea. "Come. Come and get it."
The voice was right before her. She focused on it, on the current of air flowing through the beast's vocal chords, on the hums and hisses it made, and she quickly drew her bow and shot an arrow in that direction. There was a roar of laughter and the voice spoke to her again.
"Hahaha, almost, little Dovakhiin, almost. Try harder."
Now she was just angry. The voice had come from behind her.
How could such a large beast be so quick that it avoided her attack and even managed to get behind her before the arrow even reached its original location? That was completely impossible!
"Ah, little Dovakhiin, don't get discouraged," the voice begged, pretending to be hurt and disappointed. "Come at me again."
Aislinn closed her eyes simply to help herself concentrate, making her body a tool to shut out the outer influences.
"Oooh, you shouldn't have done that," the dragon drawled and she could feel a shower of frost cover her body and crawl its way in her armor and under her skin, freezing her heart and body alike and draining the power from her. Alarmed, she quickly opened her eyes again.
"Feim Zii Gron!" she Shouted and her body became weightless and ethereal, the frost pouring through her translucent flesh which made her want to vomit. She gasped and forced herself to calm down.
Why would the dragon attack her when she closed her eyes while it had not attacked before? Strange rules applied to this world and she could not figure them out. It could be an illusion, but she had been denied the only way she knew to deal with such an obstacle.
"Dovakhiin," the voice issued, alluring and inviting, "how do you plan on dealing with Alduin when you keep your eyes closed?"
Eyes closed? What did he mean by that? On the contrary, her eyes were wide open, it was so dark around her that she could not see a thing. She could not even feel a thing. She kept turning around, listening to the whispers of the three dragons. Strangely enough, she could only hear one, but she was sure there had been at least two voices talking before. She felt a tug of agitation in her heart as insecurity took over her. She did not know how to perceive this world and it made her anxious. Taking a deep breath, she reached for her inner energy and shot a fireball blindly. She gasped in shock as it flew away, surrounded by complete darkness, slowly being enveloped by it as it faded from her sight. The fire did not reveal a single thing. She was sure that it should have at least lit the ground beneath it, but everything remained shrouded in impenetrable shadow.
Slowly, she grew more and more restless, feeling exposed and vulnerable, and also unable to do anything, as if she was chained down by the darkness, confined in this dark place, vast and constricted at the same time. She shivered and her stomach knotted, her mind racing furiously in hysteria which was quite unlike her. She was powerless and wanted to escape this terrible quiet prison, regain her freedom again. Where was she, really? Had the three guardian dragons been living here for thousands of years, restricted to this dreadful place as though someone had chopped off their wings and bound them to nothingness? Then, realization sank in, slowly and frightfully, and she held her breath inadvertently.
"It seems your eyes are opening, little Dovakhiin," the dragon said slowly, savoring her fear. She knew she could not fight this beast by the usual means.
"Who are you? What did you do to me?" she asked. She barely heard her own voice in the thick darkness which stifled all the sounds, although, surprisingly, she heard the dragon's words loud and clear and she was sure that he heard her just as well.
"Oh, you are just as you were before you came here," he hummed. "But you came to face the inevitable. In the end, you cannot escape from yourself."
Despite the darkness, she blinked. The beast had said it. This was the place she had feared the most for the past few months, the place closest to her and yet most unreachable. She took a deep breath, concentrating on her surroundings, until she sensed more than just three presences. There were more of them, whispering in the shadows, and they were all a part of her.
"Are you reading my thoughts?" she asked with uncertainty in her voice.
"Ah, little Dovakhiin," the dragon snorted, "do you really think it possible to read others' thoughts? It is not necessary to do so in order to understand their souls. As for your first question, I am Riisiljun, the Watcher of Souls. I do not fight like normal dovah do. In fact, I do not fight at all, not anymore. But many have succumbed to madness upon confronting me, nevertheless."
"You don't believe in power like the other dovah do?"
"Believe in power?" he grumbled, and his voice sounded like a distant earthquake. "Do not deride me, little Dovakhiin. There is no such thing as believing in power. Power is, and power will be, and there is nothing beyond that. You cannot find your place in Mundus if you do not acknowledge power."
"But you said you do not fight…"
"Not anymore, I said. Still, one does not need to fight to manifest power," he laughed bitterly and Aislinn sensed the important part was hidden somewhere beneath that woeful tone of his.
"You cannot fight," she uttered, and for some reason, the words sounded inexplicably lonely to her.
"Oh, brilliant, little Dovakhiin, thank you for stating the obvious! You know, we dragons are pretty straightforward creatures, but we are no fools."
Perfect. He might be no fool, but this strange creature, unlike so many of his kind, definitely enjoyed making a fool out of her.
"But I was sent here to fight you and retrieve the words of a certain Shout," she sighed. "Are you not one of their guardians?"
"You were sent here?" he drawled in acid amusement. "Oh, and since when does the Dovakhiin let herself be ordered around by others? The disappointment! You are weak if you think your choices are not yours. You are even weaker if you abide by the will of others blindly without thinking what it might bring upon you!"
"I am not weak!" Aislinn bellowed, but only a biting grunt came in response.
"Then prove it, Dovakhiin," he hissed. "You are blind and deaf to yourself, your conscious can't even reach the very edge of your pitiful soul. You don't know who you are and yet you dare walk Nirn freely and call yourself one of the dov. I do not identify myself with you, sahlo."
There were several ways of answering to that kind of insult that crossed Aislinn's mind. Striking back with the same kind of attitude would certainly prove disadvantageous for her since she was not so well-versed in the dovahzul. Charging blindly at the beast again would definitely add oil to the fire and would most probably not be effective, considering that the place she perceived with her senses was not real, or, at least, not quite tangible. And both of these solutions suddenly did not seem too appealing to her. Looking from the dragon's perspective, he obviously wanted her to understand something. She discarded the possibility of him toying with her, that was not the dovah way. So did he want her to succeed?
Before she could decide on the proper reaction, another voice issued from the gloom, the soft and deep one she had heard talking to Riisiljun before.
"Ah, the sweet ignorance," he spoke and his words carried the fresh fragrance of wind brushing the snowy summits of mountains. "But let us not be too harsh. We dragons do not forget, but you joor see the world through different eyes. I take it that it is sometimes convenient for you to forget… but, little Dovakhiin, it is about time you woke up from your dream. I see your soul is in turmoil, but it is not going to resolve itself. You cannot even distinguish the voice of your own soul from the ones that joined it when you had slain their vessels, much less understand what they seek."
"But how do I do that?" she inquired, shifting on her feet restlessly.
"To take a step forward, you must first take a step backward," the dragon answered calmly. "There are many prophecies and signs in this world, but in the end, nothing happens when there is no true desire for it to happen. There are no coincidences, and therefore you, the Dovakhiin, are no coincidence either. Why were you born, Dovakhiin? How did you come to existence? Do you think it is just your blood that makes you a Dovakhiin?"
"If not the blood, then what?" she asked, puzzled and unsure of how to react. He was right, she did not know anything and she had been fighting this feeling ever since she had woken up in the carriage to Helgen. She felt ashamed of herself and wanted to curl into a ball somewhere in a corner where no-one would see her. But there was no such corner at this place.
"It only matters who you are at the moment," Brynjolf's words rang in her head. He had told her the exact opposite from what this dragon had… or had he?
"Do you think it is just your blood that makes you a Dovakhiin?"
Maybe not. Maybe they were both right. She is the Dragonborn, after all. There was no past tense to it. So what made her a Dragonborn?
It was not just blood and there wasn't anything dragon-like about her body, maybe except for her eyes. Her skin was smooth and soft, her frame small and frail compared to that of a dragon. So what else was there aside from the body?
"The soul," she said, unaware of the fact she articulated it out loud, and she jerked a little when the dragon's voice notified her.
"See?" it echoed. "You have the answers, you just have to dig them up. It is the soul indeed. Although, to be honest, we have not expected your soul turning out to be the Dragonborn."
"Is there something wrong with my soul?" Aislinn asked, wondering if she should be afraid of the answer.
"You really don't remember anything, do you? Not who you were, not our last encounter, and yet, here you are, standing before us without even knowing your purpose."
"We have met before?"
"Indeed we have, and it is the reason you stand here before us again. Look into yourself, Dovakhiin, and meditate. Think upon who you really are."
She frowned. How does one meditate? How should she look into herself? The last time she had meditated, it had been for a whole different purpose, up at the Throat of the World, when Paarthurnax had still been well alive.
"'Fade' in your tongue - mortals have greater affinity for this word than the dov. Everything mortal fades away in time, but the spirit remains. Ponder the meaning of spirit, unslaad zii. Where mortal flesh may wither and die, the spirit endures. That is Feim, let that meaning fill you. Su'um ahrk morah. You will find that your spirit will give you more strength."
She remembered his words as if it had been yesterday. They felt like her own now, filling her soul with the memory of the ancient dragon, but they also felt distant, as though they had never truly been there. Paarthurnax understood dragons and humans alike, having found the way to compromise and live in peace with both, while she, the Dragonborn, understood neither. Human and dragon in one, and yet…
"Think upon who you really are."
This was who she was. Human and dragon, one whose spirit would remain, even if her flesh withered.
She gasped when she felt the ground under her feet crumble. A soundless earthquake shook her and she staggered, trying to hold onto something, but there was nothing to grasp. She cried out when she realized how hopeless her situation was. She was falling, down into the deep of the endless nothingness, surrounded by complete darkness, and a flood of emotions swept her mind away.
There had never been anything. She had always been pursuing false goals and believing in fake ideals. She could never find certainty in this world, no solid ground under her feet, and neither could anyone else. But she would change it forever. If the world was not forthcoming, then she would bend it to her will. She would become that certainty, the solid ground that people could walk on. If no-one else was up to the task, she would. That was the path she had chosen.
Then she felt her thoughts slip away, leaving a huge empty space behind, and she lost consciousness.
A man was sitting on the low wall leading through the garden, surrounded by luxuriant greenery sprinkled with myriads of colorful flowers which blossomed face up to the bright blue skies. The air was warm and clear and the sun shone through the branches and lightened the tall walls of the neighboring buildings. Occasional flopping of the wings or bird tune singing summer melodies sounded from above, but apart from that, nothing interrupted the stillness and silence hovering over the place. The man sat with his back bent, head buried in his hands so nothing but the ruffled mop of long black hair blanketing his arms and knees down to his ebony boots with gilded buckles was visible of him, and a thin slightly curved sword was propped against his thigh. The irony of this lonely sight contrasting the beautiful vivid scenery in the background sent a painful stab in her heart as she approached him. She knew he was not crying, but he might as well be.
"What happened?" she asked him softly, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. He raised his head and a pair of turquoise eyes stared at her. She shivered when she looked into them so reminiscent of someone she knew.
"Martin…" he whispered hoarsely, "he… he's gone."
She gasped silently and stared at him for a good while.
"But he was the last…" she breathed.
"The rule of the Septim bloodline is over," he said, his voice broken. "At the end, he called me a friend. He called me a friend but I couldn't do anything for him. Not a single thing!"
"It's not your fault," she told him. "You did everything you could."
"I guess your… companion will not be pleased."
She laughed bitterly.
"He'll get rid of me once he has the chance," she said.
"But he has no reason to…"
"I know too much and Martin's not around anymore. I was his link to him and now he doesn't need me anymore."
"I won't let him," he told her, rising from his fairly uncomfortable seat. "He has killed enough already. I'll hide you somewhere."
"And then what? He won't stop until he finds me… and he will. Unless…" she paused, frowning, and shook her head so a few locks of long wavy white-gold hair fell over her shoulder. She watched them and it occurred to her that she had not seen this color for a long, long time.
"Unless?" he asked and gave her an expectant look.
She took a deep breath and started singing, her tune resounding clearly within the walls, a single soft voice rising above the treetops in perfect harmony with the gentle breeze and the chirping sparrows.
"When all is lost and hope has died
when ashes from skies fall
when kings are gone, the rivers cried
and fear takes hearts of all
The soul then weeps and vessel aches
in pieces it is torn
time passes by and darkness breaks
by the Last Dragonborn."
His eyes were wide in question, staring at her in silence. When she did not seem intent on explaining, he spoke at last.
"What is that?"
"A prophecy," she told him. "I found it among the old Akaviri texts."
"The soul then weeps and vessel aches, in pieces it is torn," he repeated slowly. "Don't tell me…"
"I think the Soul Transferrer is not just a toy," she said. "It is meant for someone who is willing to give up everything for the future of Tamriel."
He put his hands on her forearms and squeezed them until she winced in pain. She hated the look in his eyes, for there was only despair.
"You plan to become the Last Dragonborn?" he asked silently, making the question suffocate in the air as though he was afraid of the answer. And he truly was.
She nodded. "I have nothing to lose."
"You liar!" he accused her. "And I just lost Martin."
"I swear I will be the last one you lose."
"If you're wrong… if by any cruel joke of the Divines you are mistaken…"
"I'm not," she reassured him. "I've done this world too much wrong. It is time I atoned for it."
"You've… chosen your path," he whispered in resignation.
"I have," she said and hot tears paved a burning trail down her cheeks.
They stood there in silence, the summer breeze ruffled their hair, the gold entwined with the black, and the song of the sparrows kept them company.
Aislinn gasped. Her heart refused to believe what she had just seen. This had been her once upon a time, but at the same time, it had been a different person. She did not understand what had just happened, but there was one thing she had become painfully aware of. Her being the Dragonborn was not a coincidence. She had chosen the path herself. Both of the dragons had told her, but she would not understand until they had made her meditate.
"Is this what you meant by saying that there are no coincidences?" she asked, but the darkness lifted once more, and this time she was flying.
The air was cold and the wind strong, blowing against her wings in powerful gusts. She enjoyed it as it provided countless opportunities for exciting gliding and she could watch the scenery of white and silver from the sky. The snow was harsh, blanketing her huge reptile body with a thick blanket of shimmering white and covering the land below in a haze, but it was refreshing up here and she could still see the pointy summits of the highest mountains.
She swooped down in an elegant dive and reveled in the swooshing whirlwind of frost, tasting the air and scaring all the lesser wind creatures around until it was just her, the skies, and the ground approaching at breathtaking speed. Then she turned abruptly and brushed the treetops with her belly, enjoying the tickling sensation it sent through her flesh. She was the boss here and she could do anything and everything. How strange that she felt so calm and peaceful when she could roam the sky like this, that she did not feel the urge to do anything at all.
She spotted a fellow dragon, a magnificent beast of crimson and gold, and she rose to fly with him, wing meeting wing and then shifting apart again, complementing each other in a wild spiral of scales and claws. Then they Shouted and an astonishing fountain of blazing flames tore through the grey of the clouds. Life was beautiful up here with nothing binding her and restricting her freedom. A third dragon followed, elegant silver scales were sprinkled over the field of deep blue and green, and it breathed ice that glittered in the air and reflected myriads of colorful images as the fire lit it. They could make their own world with fire and ice. But then a large black dragon blocked their path, one who would destroy any world of theirs, and roared with voice so strong that the ground shook and the air under their wings gave way.
"Traitors," he bellowed in a deep threatening voice. "Defilers of the way of the dovah. I have entrusted you with an important task and given you so much in return, and you dare oppose me? You shall pay like no other dovah has. You will suffer until the end of the Time."
Then he left and others took his place, a throng of winged predators with gleaming red eyes which foretold damnation, and they mobbed at the three of them and ripped their wings, spraying the snow below with colorful scales that fell only to be covered with the red of their blood. They cried in pain, fighting valiantly, slaying one beast after another, but there was no end to them and finally, their bodies gave in and their enemies tore them apart.
Wandering souls they would become, until they would be reborn anew, but the World-Eater knew no mercy and prepared a terrible prison for them. They were dragged into nothingness, confined in a small dark place for eternity. They could see nothing, their world had been diminished into the void that was left of their souls. Only when a stranger decided to pass by, they could feed on his soul and savor a bit of the outer world before the emotions and memories faded and they were left to themselves once more.
She let out a terrified shriek. Though having the blood and soul of a dragon, Aislinn was still a human and never in her life had she imagined how painful it could be for a dragon to lose his freedom. She was trembling and panting, and once again tears were pouring down her cheeks. It was dark again, and the weight of the darkness fell upon her shoulders heavily. Was this how the dragons in her felt? And was it possible that dragons feared being controlled above all? It had to be true. This was the anxiousness she had always been feeling, the insecurity that petrified her. She was not afraid of danger, she was afraid of being chained down. Not even her fear of herself could compare to this. In the end, she was a dragon, and a dragon needed freedom.
"As you could see," a voice spoke to her, a pitch higher than the ones before and full of endless sorrow, "Paarthurnax was not the only dovah who dared defy our master. Unlike him, we paid for it dearly. But we tend to believe there is still hope for us as long as the Dovakhiin remains undefeated."
Aisinn raised her head instinctively to face the source of the voice. Her eyes could not penetrate the darkness, but mentally focused on the unseen beast before her nevertheless.
"You want to give me the Shout in exchange for freeing you?" she asked.
"We do like this kind of exchange, yes, but unfortunately, it is not possible," the dragon sighed Aislinn shivered. "However, even we have heard about the great war that plunders your land, and therefore we can make a different kind of offer. We will teach you the Shout to summon the Elder Scroll. In the world that will open upon reading the scroll, you will not only find a way to defeat Alduin, but also means to free us. Do it and we will come to your aid when you need us."
"Isn't this offer too generous?" she asked with a hint of suspicion in her tone. "And isn't it a little strange for the three guardian dragons to be so forthcoming?"
There was a laugh and she recognized Riisiljun's voice.
"Little Dovakhiin is afraid of scheming," he chuckled. "Too long have you been living among joor. Dragons do not scheme, they fight with power that dwells inside their souls. You have proven to us that there is power in your soul as well, and the fact that you are here means that Odahviing has acknowledged you as well. That is enough for us."
"I believe it is in our common interest to defeat the World-Eater," the smooth deep voice echoed. "While Alduin may have thought that by now we would have lost our sanity and killed just about anyone who would dare approach us, we keep ourselves calm through meditation and devouring the souls of the lost ones. We are far from defeated, for in his arrogance he cannot comprehend certain things that other dovah can."
"You are strong," Aislinn said in awe and bowed slightly.
"Your acknowledgement pleases me, Dovakhiin," the sad voice said.
"Now then, shall we teach the little Dovakhiin the Words?" Riisiljun offered. Hums of affirmation resonated in Aislinn's head and he continued.
"I am Riisiljun, Master of the Souls," he spoke, "and I offer you the word Dey. Feel it, Dovakhiin, materialize it. Meditate on it and absorb it."
"Dey," she whispered and the word buzzed through her body, sending vibes down her spine and her limbs. She felt it as she breathed and then it sank down and settled in her soul. It was hers now, a new part of her being.
"I am Ziibothur, Master of Freedom of Spirit," the soft voice breathed then. "I offer you the word Tiid. Let it pass through you as it passes through everything."
The second word was lighter and greater at the same time. She had already known the word for time, but this concept was new to her. It was the concept of existence itself, the presence and absence of time, and she would use it to summon something that was beyond its grasp.
"I am Multarnin, Master of Stability," the sad voice told her, "and I offer you the word Lein. Feel its burden and make it sink. Let it tie you to the reality you know and then reshape it. It is within your reach."
"Lein," she repeated. The word left her breathless and a feeling of infinite horizons which had to be overcome flooded her heart. It was indeed the world itself, with everything it had to offer and everything it lacked.
"You now know all the necessary words," Ziibothur concluded, "but despite being guarded by three of our kind, a kel is still a kel and you will need to find a way to read it. Do not call for it before you do, for it will only burden you."
"Thank you," Aislinn said, but her heart sank a little when she realized that she would need to look for a Moth Priest. She could only think of one place to go, and that place was very, very far.
"Just say the word when you are ready," Riisiljun invited. "We will release your soul from our prison and you will be free to go."
Aislinn nodded in silence, assured that the dragons understood. She was still shaken and overwhelmed with the load of information she had learnt here, but the sooner she would leave the better. Brynjolf and Lucia were out there waiting for her, and apart from them there was also Farkhali, jarl Balgruuf and all of Skyrim. She still had a long way ahead of her. She took a deep breath.
"I am ready," she said.
So… a lot of explaining in this chapter, but I somehow have a feeling it has left you with more questions than you had at the beginning. That's all right, it's how it's supposed to be. You'll know in time. But guess who our mourning friend is? Yes, you all know him! Probably… :D
And finally, I got a big news for you! I got myself a beta (hm, is there a difference between a beta and a proofreader, or is it the same thing?), a cool guy whom you can find here under the nickname dart0808, so the quality of my work should increase. He already checked the chapters I have published so far and he is fast as wind! Maybe it's the power of his Geass… :o
[Lies. All lies. -Dart]
Ok, that's about it. Just one more thing. Please, review. I know I'm repeating myself, but the reviews give me motivation. It doesn't take that long to write a review, right? Definitely not a tenth of the time I spend writing a chapter. So please, please me. ;)
Again, thank you for all the reviews, favs and follows.
Stay tuned!
Mirwen
