I could feel it; a darkness. A deep, festering premonition of fear and change. A shifting of the sands; as if the gods themselves were watching with bated breath to witness the culmination of a great prophecy.

Terrible things were going to happen in this place.

I felt myself scowl as the first rocky precipices of Skuldafn emerged from the heavy clouds. I squinted as the tiny ice crystals forming on the glass oculars of my helmet blurred my vision, and the shrieking, frigid wind rushed past my head. I gripped onto Nysteris' armoured waist as Naslaarum dipped and rose in the air, his massive wings moving slowly as he soared, his deep, guttural growls vibrating forcefully through my body.

Nysteris' black hair whipped around me in the strong wind, lashing at my neck and shoulders. The long, silver horns of her ebony crown seemed to grow from her head; she held her spear pointed down toward Naslaarum's tail as she held tightly onto his long horizontal spines, occasionally kicking him and pulling hard upon him to lead his path.

For the most fleeting of moments, I remembered her in all of her rarely seen sweetness.
The first time I'd seen her smile in Solstheim; the way she had stood so shyly in the snow and was too nervous to meet my gaze on the first night she had given me her body, even though she had invited me.
The way she weakened when our lips met and she melted into my arms.
The first sight of her living blue eyes; her chiming laugh.
The way that she had looked at me when she had told me that I held her heart.

All of that seemed so far away now.

The creature that I held in my arms at this moment was not a princess. Nor had she ever been; She was a warrior. A weapon. The dark side of a strange dichotomy, representing the essence of battle itself; a highly refined and specialised trump card bearing thousands of years and many lifetimes of experience, a servant and a saviour to her lost kind.
I had known what she was for some time; but to see her as she was now, the Herald of War in all her horror and glory, borne on the back of a sacred dragon, brought a new and sobering kind of reality along with it.
The armour she wore glowed between its plates with a dark blue light, the mail of it of a style I had not seen before. She seemed neither male nor female; but something undefinable.
I wondered for a moment how her sister would fare. Nysteris had experience and a lust for bloodshed; Faire was altogether more fragile. It would be Nysteris who would steer the course of this battle.

A huge roar suddenly ripped through the sky as Faire and Voslaarum rose up next to us in the air, Marcurio clinging onto Faire as he stared ahead of him, a look of grim determination on his face; it was as I followed his gaze that I saw it, and I felt the fear momentarily pierce me.

Two massive dragons perched upon the frozen stone arches before us.

They crouched and spread their immense wings as they prepared to rise up, the tarnished copper-gold of their scales contrasting sharply with the white and grey landscape around them. Each one of them was easily twice the size of Naslaarum.

As they parted their huge jaws to roar as they rose up into the air, Naslaarum released a deafening roar of his own, rearing in frenzied anticipation as he saw them; his head tossed as Nysteris pulled hard upon his spines, shouting orders to him in the Falmer language. The hiss of the wind past my head made it hard to concentrate. I watched in horror as both of the elder dragons suddenly turned in the air and headed for Voslaarum and Faire.

Nysteris twirled her spear in her hand to bring the head forward as she sharply pulled his horns to the left, and I held on for dear life as the dragon tilted in the air beneath us, soaring down to reach Faire before the enemy did; I looked on in amazement as Voslaarum released a huge rush of fire from his mouth and Faire unleashed an explosive shout, knocking the elder dragon back in the air as it roared in anger.
As Voslaarum quickly dove downward with astonishing agility, we raced in, tilting even further on our sides as Naslaarum opened his jaws and took a great chunk out of the elder dragon's neck, and Nysteris roared as she brutally thrust her silver spear into its eye, pulling it out again with vicious force as the blood and fluid spurted over us.
My stomach churned and my ears rang as the dragon screamed and we soared straight up into the air, my feet losing their hold on Naslaarum's back as we continued our vertical climb. I felt Nysteris' iron grip grab my wrist as we suddenly began to dive again, twisting in the air to nose dive toward the second elder as Naslaarum began to manifest his thu'um.

'Teldryn!' Her voice rang out harshly as her blazing eyes burned into me, a snarl on her face and dragon blood spattered on her black armour. She pulled me up as she spoke and I grabbed her again, winding my feet underneath Naslaarum's neck spines as I secured my hold. 'Do you see them? On the ground!'

I looked down at the ancient structures of Skuldafn as my heart pounded in my chest, my breathing becoming heavy and rapid.

I saw them; draugr. At least five, lined up on the edge of the stone platform, their arms braced by their sides and their weapons in hand as they opened their rotted mouths beneath their tarnished helmets and released their dragon shouts toward us. The blue glow rippled through the air before fading out far before it reached us.
Death Lords.

'Yes!' I shouted at her over the screaming hiss of the wind. I knew what she wanted me to do.
'Prepare yourself,' she yelled as she steered Naslaarum towards them as he released a great blue ball of translucent blue force at the death lords, another one rushing past is and striking them as Voslaarum swooped down beside us with Faire and Marcurio on his back.
I gritted my teeth and braced myself as we soared toward the ground, so close that I could have sworn we would crash into the massive stones.
'Now!'
I leaped from the dragon's back as it arched its neck upwards and began its ascent, the clawed tips of its wings scraping against the rock as it rushed toward the sky.

I grunted as I hit the ground in a roll, concentrating my strength into my left hand as I summoned the atronach.
The death lords had prepared for me.
It glared at me through glowing dead eyes, its matted hair hanging around its decayed face beneath its horned helmet as it repeatedly smashed its sword against its shield, rallying its kin.

"Vul fahliil! Qolaas sos daanik!"

'Come on,' I hissed, the atronach emerging from the swirl behind me. I felt the excitement and rage of battle rise within me as I drew my sword. 'You vile carcass. Show me what you've got!'

A massive bolt of lightning shot past me and struck it in the chest as I looked on in surprise and the flame atronach began to throw its fire.

'I hope you weren't talking to me.'
Marcurio sidled up next to me, crouched in a battle stance and with a glowing veneer all over the surface of his skin and robes.
'Very impressive, serjo,' I grinned at him as I turned to face the death lords again. 'Keep that up and this could even be fun.'
As I clashed swords with the angry draugr, I saw an epic sight from the edge of my vision; the Heralds, twisting in the air upon their avatars like snakes, the burning corpse of the elder dragon falling from the sky as the blinding ribbons of light from its soul rushed toward the riders, even as their mounts continued to roar and the thunderclaps of their shouts continued to crack through the air as they targeted the remaining elder.
I had been wrong to doubt them when I had first seen that terrible sight when we had approached Skuldafn.
Voslaarum and Naslaarum were more manoeuvrable and agile than I could have ever believed possible. Their smaller stature was no impediment whatsoever to their efficacy. And so fierce...

I shouted out in anger as the death lord's sword came down upon my arm as I was distracted by the sight before me.
'Pay attention!' Marcurio yelled as he unleashed more lightning upon the group of undead corpses.

I gritted my teeth as I charged forward with my sword raised high.