Chapter Two: Paarthurnax (Fridas/Loredas, the Fifth/Sixth of Evening Star)
After spending the rest of that night in Morthal's inn, the group traveled together on horseback as far as Dawnstar with Mari riding with Aerenwen, and Brelyna riding with Elain, just as they had made the trip from Whiterun to Labyrinthian. Once there, the mages secured travel aboard a small currier boat, knowing the trip to Winterhold would be faster by sea, and the other three continued south on horseback.
When the road eventually forked, Aerenwen was surprised that Elain continued with them instead of turning toward Windhelm, but her sister explained that she had business in Falkreath Hold and parted ways with the others at the stables outside Whiterun.
Aerenwen stood at the edge of the road as the form of her sister on horseback grew smaller as it disappeared into the distance. Aela approached and looped her arm through the taller woman's after she had gotten their horses settled and checked in with the stable owner.
"That's the second time she's referenced business near Falkreath," Aerenwen commented. "I'd love to know what she's up to."
Aela frowned. "There's rumored to be a Dark Brotherhood sanctuary somewhere in the forests of Falkreath Hold," she stated after a few moments. "It's said back when they were at their greatest, they possessed two in Skyrim. One near Falkreath and one near Dawnstar. Hunters still tell fearful tales of encountering the mysterious black doors in the wilderness. I saw the one in Falkreath once when I was a girl. It stands within the recess of a stone cliff at the side of an unnatural pond. The water appeared to be almost black and was smooth as glass. I've never seen a pond so still."
"I thought the Dark Brotherhood was no more," Aerenwen replied as they made their way up the hill toward the gates of their home city.
Aela shrugged. "They say that is the case in the rest of Tamriel, but there have always been rumors of them still operating here in Skyrim. Nothing confirmed, of course, but people still claim their Black Sacraments are answered. Murders are still attributed to them."
Aerenwen nodded, deep in thought. Could that be what her mysterious sister was up to?
After spending a day in Whiterun to recooperate from their endeavor into Labyrinthian, check in at Jorrvaskr, and spend time with Hamish, Aerenwen and Aela set out for Ivarstead. They were greeted jovially by the locals and shared a pint with the familiar faces before retreating to the room they had rented for the night.
Like the second time Aerenwen had visited the monastery, Aela accompanied her up the 7000 steps. They both had their defenses up. The last time they had been in Ivarstead, they were attacked by unknown cultists who claimed Aerenwen wasn't really the Dragonborn.
Once arriving at the monastery, they were greeted by one of the silent monks and led to the large central room where Arngeir met them.
"Welcome, Dragonborn," he stated with a respectful nod. "What brings you to our mountain?"
"I need to learn the shout used to defeat Alduin during the Dragon War," Aerenwen replied, getting right to business.
"Where did you learn of that?" the old man asked in surprise. "Who have you been talking to?"
"It was recorded on Alduin's Wall," she replied.
He shook his head in disgust. "The Blades!" he spat. "Of course. They specialize in meddling in matters they barely understand. Their reckless arrogance knows no bounds."
So, apparently, the disdain Delphine felt toward the monks was reciprocated.
"They have always sought to turn the Dragonborn from the path of wisdom," Arngeir stated. "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?"
Aerenwen had certainly never seen the old man so wound up before, but she also did not deserve to be spoken to like that. "The Blades are aiding me in my research on the return of the dragons. I am not a puppet, not for the Blades and not for you," she replied with narrowed eyes.
"No, no of course not, Dragonborn," Arngeir apologized immediately, seeming regretful of his words. "I have been intemperate with you, but heed my warning. The Blades may claim they serve the Dragonborn, but they do not. They never have."
Aerenwen barely contained an eyeroll. She was growing tired of old grudges and the lack of cooperation that resulted. She was trying to save the world, for Aetherius' sake. "Can you teach me this Shout?"
"No," Arngeir answered with a shake of his head. "I cannot teach it to you because I do not know it. It is called Dragonrend, but its words of power are unknown to us. We here at High Hrothgar do not regret this loss. Dragonrend holds no place within the Way of the Voice."
"I thought you knew all the words of power," Aerenwen challenged, not sure she believed the monk.
"All but Dragonrend," he replied. "The knowledge of that Shout was lost in the time before history began."
"If it's lost, how can I defeat Alduin?" she asked, exchanging a glance with Aela. She couldn't remember ever feeling this discouraged in her hunt for answers. She felt a bit like Delphine.
"Only Paarthurnax, the master of our order, can answer that question," the monk replied, "if he so chooses."
"I need to speak with Paarthurnax, then," she insisted.
"You weren't ready," Arngeir answered. "You still aren't ready, but, thanks to the Blades, you now have questions only Paarthurnax can answer."
"How do I get to the top of the mountain to see him?" Aerenwen asked, remembering Arngeir's earlier words about their leader living in seclusion at the very peak of the Throat of the World.
"Only those whose Voice is strong can find the path," he answered.
Another one of the monks, usually silent, spoke in the dragon tongue, his voice shaking the very foundation upon which they stood.
Arngeir nodded. "Of course. Come. We will teach you a Shout to open the way to Paarthurnax."
The two warriors followed the group of monks out to the courtyard behind the monastery, and Aerenwen gazed up the stairs that led toward the mountain's peak. Swirling wind and snow seemed to block the way.
The monks led them to a landing halfway up the stairs and paused, all of them turning toward the Dragonborn.
"The path to Paarthurnax lies through this gate," Arngeir stated, waving his hand toward the archway at the top of the stairs that separated them from the swirling storm. "I will show you how to open the way."
All three monks shouted, and the words they spoke appeared carved in the ground before them. Aerenwen walked around the semicircle, studying each word until she knew them - Lok Vah Koor.
"I will grant you my understanding of Clear Skies," Arngeir said as he approached her. "This is our final gift to you, Dragonborn. Use it well."
Aerenwen was overcome as she absorbed the old man's understanding of the shout.
"Clear skies will blow away the mist, but only for a time," Arngeir explained. "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."
"Thank you," Aerenwen stated with a respectful nod. She nodded toward all the Greybeards, and then turned to climb the stairs with Aela following.
When they reached the top, she stood beside the other woman. "Stay close," she ordered. Aela nodded, and Aerenwen released her new Shout.
The journey upward was perilous. The ground was slick, covered with snow and ice, and every few minutes, she needed to stop to shout Clear Skies once again to open the path before them. A few ice wraiths attacked, and they defeated them.
Finally, they reached the top. An open area lay before them with a partially collapsed word wall upon which was perched a dragon.
The two women immediately drew their weapons, but Aerenwen held a hand up to stop Aela from firing off an arrow at it. There was something different about this ancient-looking beast. He wasn't attacking, simply studying the duo as they approached. She'd read on the tablets and in texts about Paarthurnax, one of Alduin's top generals, who betrayed his master to help the humans and taught them to speak as dragons did. She'd thought, perhaps, the Greybeards' leader had taken the name in homage to the ancient dragon, but could it be possible that Paarthurnax had survived the Dragon War and been living here the entire time?
The dragon flapped its great wings and landed in front of the women.
"Drem Yol Lok," he stated in a deep voice. "Greetings, wunduniik. I am Paarthurnax. Who are you? What brings you to my strunmah . . . my mountain?"
Aerenwen exchanged a glance with Aela who lowered her bow.
"I am the one they call Dragonborn," Aerenwen replied. "You're the master of the Greybeards?"
"They see me as master," Paarthurnax replied. "Wuth. Onik. Old and wise. It is true I am old."
Aerenwen chuckled. This dragon had a sense of humor.
"Tell me, why do you come here, volaan?" he asked. "Why do you intrude on my meditation?"
"I need to learn the Dragonrend shout," Aerenwen explained. "Can you teach me?"
"Drem. Patience," he answered. "There are formalities which must be observed at the first meeting of two of the dov. By long tradition, the elder speaks first." He shouted and spit a long column of fire toward the word wall. As the flames receeded, Aerenwen could see one word glowing. She approached and was overcome by both the knowledge of the word and its understanding.
"A gift, Dovahkiin," the old dragon stated. "Yol. Understand fire as the dov do."
Aerenwen nodded at the dragon in thanks.
"Now, show me what you can do. Greet me not as elf but as Dovah," Paarthurnax instructed. "Do not be afraid. Let me feel the power of your thu'um."
Aerenwen did as instructed and concentrated on the new word, releasing the shout, "Yol", along with a stream of fire in the direction of the old dragon.
He seemed pleased. "Sossedov los mul," he stated. "The dragonblood runs strong in you. It is long since I had the pleasure of speech with one of my own kind. And who is this?" he asked, turning his massive head in Aela's direction.
"This is Aela the Huntress," Aerenwen replied. "She is my most trusted companion."
Paarthurnax nodded in understanding before turning back toward the elf. "So, you have made your way to me. No easy task for a joor . . . mortal. Even for one of Dovah Sos. Dragonblood. What would you ask of me?"
Aerenwen repeated her question from earlier. "Can you teach me the Dragonrend shout?"
"I have expected you," Paarthurnax stated instead of answering right away. "Prodah. You would not come all this way for tinvaak with an old dovah. No, you seek your weapon against Alduin."
"How did you know I would come for this reason?" she wondered.
"Alduin komeyt tiid," he answered, and she once again wished she was fluid in the ancient language of the dragons. "What else would you seek? Alduin and Dovahkiin return together. But I do not know the Thu'um you seek. Krosis. It cannot be known to me. Your kind, joarre, mortals, created it as a weapon against the dov, the dragons. Our hadrimme, our minds cannot even comprehend its concepts."
"So it's a lost cause?" Aerenwen asked. "The Greybeards don't know it. You don't know it. It has long been forgotten in Skyrim. How can I learn it?"
"Drem. All in good time," Paarthurnax replied. "First, a question for you, Dovakiin. Why do you want to learn this Thu'um?"
Aerenwen was frustrated, but at the same time, there was something very calming about the old dragon's presence. "I need to stop Alduin," she answered. "I like this world. I don't want it to end."
"Pruzah. As good a reason as any," he commented. "There are many who feel as you do, though not all. 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? Lein vokiin? Would you stop the next world from being born?"
"The next world will have to take care of itself," Aerenwen replied.
The dragon smiled. Could dragons smile? Apparently. "Paaz. A fair answer. Ro fus . . maybe you only balance the forces that work to quicken the end of this world. Even we who ride the currents of time cannot see past time's end. Wuldsetiid los tahrodiis. Those who try to hasten the end may delay it. Those who work to delay the end may bring it closer, but you have indulged my weakness for speech long enough. Krosis. Now I will answer your question.
"Do you know why I live here at the peak of the Monahven, what you name Throat of the World?" he asked.
Aerenwen shook her head.
"Few now remember that this was the very spot where Alduin was defeated by the ancient Tongues," he explained. "Vahrukt unslaad. Perhaps none but me now remember how he was defeated."
"Using Dragonrend?" Aerenwen asked. That was what the wall had insinuated, at least.
"Yes and no," he replied. "Viik nuz ni kron. Alduin was not truly defeated. If he was, you would not be here today seeking to defeat him. The Nords of those days used Dragonrend 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."
"Are you saying the ancient Nords sent Alduin forward in time?" Aerenwen asked.
"Not intentionally," Paarthurnax replied. "Some hoped he would be gone forever. Forever lost. Meyye. I knew better. Tiid bo amatiiv. Time flows ever onward. One day he would surface which is why I have lived here. For thousands of years I have waited. I knew where he would emerge but not when."
"How does this help me?" Aerenwen asked. Though she appreciated the information, she needed answers.
"Tiid krent. Time was shattered here because of what the ancient Nords did to Alduin," he explained. "If you brought that Kel, that Elder Scroll back here to the Tiid-Ahraan, the Time-Wound, 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 who created it."
Aerenwen nodded and exchanged a glance with Aela. "Do you know where I can find an Elder Scroll?" she asked the old dragon.
"Krosis. No," he replied. "I know little of what has passed below in the long years I have lived here. You are likely better informed than I, Dovahkiin. Trust your instincts. Your blood will show you the way."
"Thank you, Paarthurnax," Aerenwen stated with a smile. "It was a pleasure meeting you."
"You as well, Dovahkiin," he answered. "Come back when you have the Scroll or whenever you wish to tinvaak with an old dragon."