Chapter 19

A Clan Reunited

Aela shifted her legs uncomfortably as Bishop stared hard at her, waiting for her to reveal the nitty-gritty truth about this malicious group of werewolves out by Falkreath.

But her eyes kept wandering over to Nelkir who was also curiously listening, wanting to hear more.

Finally, Bishop said, "Wait outside kid."

Nelkir scoffed loudly and said, "But it's still raining out!"

"Don't care, git," Bishop commanded again.

"Oh, come on!"

"Out. Now," Bishop said in a very no-nonsense tone of voice.

Nelkirknew not to argue at that point, but made his annoyance known when he kicked at a piece of waterlogged wood debris on the floor and grumbled, "I never get to know anything! I hate being a kid!" before disappearing outside.

Bishop figured he'd no doubt still be listening nearby but pressed Aela to reveal her secrets now that he'd left, "Tell me about them, the dog… hounds or whatever."

"Dredge Hounds," Aela corrected him then crossed her arms over and turned her head away pursing her lips, "It was a stupid name really. I didn't learn until later that it was part of an ode to Sithis."

"Dark Brotherhood, huh? So, I take it a Nord named Arnbjorn was involved?"

She looked at him then and her mouth dropped, "How do you know...?" Then it dawned on her, "Kodlak. He told you what happened to his son, didn't he?"

"He told me that he got involved with a bad guy named Arnbjorn and that he was killed because of all that. But I only heard his name again recently, at the Temple of Kynareth when we went to have Rona's broken hand healed," then he was the one hesitating as Aela started scrutinizing him closer. He fessed up though, "She's one of them now. She's been marked."

"No," Aelaknit her brows together.

"What's worse is she's this thing called the Listener," he explained.

But Aela already knew what he meant it seemed when she shook her head and muttered, "Gods… how could this have happened?" Then she gasped and turned back stammering, "She's not a werewolf though – is she!?"

"No. Just Dark Brotherhood."

"Oh thank the gods," Aela breathed with relief, "Arnbjorn is an absolute monster of a man. I can't imagine she'd tolerate him for very long, but if she's marked now… she can't kill any of them."

"Or the Black Hand will kill her, yeah I know. She told me everything."

"But you didn't know Arnbjorn was Dark Brotherhood. What did Kodlak tell you?"

Bishop sighed and grabbed one of the nearby seats, sat down, put both hands to his knees and laid it out for her as briefly as he could. He told her that he knew Brandr set Kodlak up and betrayed his father with the intent to kill him and the Sybill of Dibella as a means of tearing apart his father's honored reputation after his death.

Aela nodded and said, "But do you know why he really planned to kill the girl?"

Bishop stared at her for a moment before he blinked and realized, "To take an innocent life."

"Exactly," Aela said, "To be a part of Arnbjorn's pack you had to be willing to sacrifice your very humanity to do so and that meant murdering an innocent. Arnbjorn suggested it to Brandrwhen it all came about. Told him he should kill his father too. That it would be two birds with one stone and finally Brandr would be one of the pack."

Bishop wasn't liking this one bit. The idea that he'd have to murder some innocent kid just to become a werewolf didn't sit well with him at all. Maybe he could get one of them to bite him, although that would be extremely risky in itself. Then he got to thinking and looked back up at Aela and asked, "You were a part of this group? You… did you?"

Aela's arms were still firmly crossed over and she lowered her eyes, looking morose and gave a single nod before explaining herself, "Mine was an old woman. She was heading home late one night after visiting with her family. I'd stalked her for weeks, watching her every move. I knew where she'd be and on the night of a full moon, I turned and just… I let the blood take me. I barely remember it."

"Skjor too?"

"His was some teenage boy. He didn't feel good about it at all, but I was the one who convinced him to do it, told him it'd be worth it in the end because then we could be free to be what we really were and be a part of a real pack," at that point she started talking, just letting all of it go and go and go. Bishop could hear the regret etched in every word, almost like she was confessing her sins to a priest of Mara, "But it never sat right with him and things only got worse. Arnbjorn is a purely evil man and a murderer. He goes against everything Hircine stands for. In fact, he actively tries to insult the Daedric Prince in his worship of Sithis. We didn't find that out until it was all too late. When Brandr tried to kill Kodlak we confronted Anrbjorn about it, demanded to know what he was plotting and told him his actions got the boy killed. That's when he revealed the truth to us, that we were just his puppets for the Dark Brotherhood. He used us to help him hunt and kill his marks, or even just to kill out of the enjoyment of it. Of course, after telling us all this, he didn't intend to let us go either. Skjor fought like a madman and I did everything I could to keep the rest of the pack at bay. He lost his eye that day and I don't think he ever forgave me for it."

"So the only way to become one of them is to kill some innocent civilian then?" Bishop asked her pointedly.

She scowled at him, "Wait… you're not seriously thinking of gaining the beast blood that way, are you!?"

"No," Bishop said shaking his head and standing from his seat, "I'll just lie and say I will. All I really need is to get bit again."

"But if you gain the Blood again there's no turning back," Aela argued, "You'll be one of Hircine's forever. Sovngarde is off the table. I know you love her, but would you really risk giving up eternity with her for a chance to spend whatever life you have left with her?"

"If I don't do something to help her there won't be an eternity of anything left!"

"There is another way," Olava finally spoke up from her spot at the table.

Bishop turned to look at her and ask how when she thumbed back to Wyllin who was still standing by, patiently waiting for their little meeting to conclude. "That one will show you the way. She's here on Hircine's behalf. She's here for you."

"She can turn me?"

"No, she's a ghost, don't be stupid boy."

Bishop scowled at the old woman and made to insult her back when she too stood up and quickly said, "There isn't much time. The old Harbinger will guide you on your way. Hunt the white stag in the forests of Falkreathand Hircine will appear before you. But you must make haste if you wish to save the life that hangs in the balance."

"Life? Who's life?"

"You will know when you are meant to save him," Olava said with a smirk and then she started pushing on his back, ushering him out the door, "And remember this, the next full moon is in two days time. What you have seen has not yet come to pass."

Wyllin was on the move again, with Karnwyr loping right alongside her. Bishop decided to heed the old woman's words and followed. Nelkir ran over from his spot near an open window and immediately paced alongside him clamoring, "Wait! I want to go with you!"

Bishop opened his mouth to protest when Olava called out, "I have an important task for you young man! As well as the rest of your Companions Guild." She eyed Aela up and down and Aela frowned at the old woman and took a single uneasy step away from her.

"You should do what she says Nelkir," Bishop encouraged him, "I'll catch up with you all in a month or two, alright?" He looked back to Aela and waved at her, giving his farewell, "Eyes on the prey."

"Not on the horizon," she called back, "Good luck Shield-Brother. Bring her back to us."

Bishop gave a firm nod and left through the two wide-open gates of Whiterun breaking into a sprint to catch up to his wolf and the ghostly Bosmer leading the way.

The entire city had been mostly vacated after the dragon attack and despite the heavy rainfall parts of it were still burning. Aela sighed looking around at the sad state of their city. Nelkir approached her, sulking and said, "Guess we're going to get stuck cleaning all this up, huh?"

Aela ran a hand through his wet hair, stroking the side of his head and said, "Most likely whelp."

"Whiterun's spirits are low," Olava affirmed as she carefully knelt by her tea-leaf willows and started to fuss with them, casting magic over them to heal the burnt bits, "You will have to work very hard to restore your home to what it once was, to bring back its beauty and stateliness and to make it feel safe for its citizens. I suggest you start with the Gildergreen."

"It's gone," Aela stated, "It burned down, fell over and smashed to pieces."

"Yes," Olava nodded, "Much like your own home has. But that does not mean all hope is lost. Go to Danica Pure-Spring. She will know how to bring it back. Restore the heart of Whiterun and the people will return... as will the Dragonborn. That is what I see in your future."

Aela shot an unsure glance at Olava before grasping Nelkir's shoulder to guide him along the path, "Come on whelp. Let's go check on the others."

As the two of them left a tall Altmer stepped out of the darkened doorway of the old woman's home and spoke softly, "Why do you help them?"

She smirked as she continued tending to her plants, "It is all part of the plan. The way of the Void… I am merely pushing them down the right path."

"Should I follow him, then? Should I end it on the road?"

Olava looked back at him and said, "Should Ocheeva have ended your life when you needed help most? After all, you were meant for Sithis too… but instead, she renounced her contract, nearly dying as a result and took you in… you who became an invaluable member of the Brotherhood."

"So you're saying I should recruit him?"

Olava scoffed, "Him? Oh by Sithis, no… but you will know when to act when the time comes," she studied him for a moment, frowning slightly, before turning back to healing her plants, "The future is murky and I fear for you, Niven. Take care not to allow your emotions to consume you, for that will be your downfall."

He narrowed his eyes at her back, "Emotions? I cast those into the fires of Valenwood long ago."

Olava gave a light laugh, "Hah, one can bury their feelings, certainly, but one can never truly rid themselves of all emotion. Often it takes but one single person to draw them out again," she paused for a moment as she finished tidying up her willows then gingerly pushed herself off the ground and stood on shaky legs. Niven grasped her by the arm to steady her. She gripped his arm and looked up into his dark blue eyes and spoke seriously, "Take care not to grow too close to her for she might just reignite that flame inside you."

(Loop Background Music Untold by Two Steps From Hell)

Rona stared long and hard at the great wall before her. It was a mural of sorts that resembled Alduin's Wall, only it was lit up with bright yellow and blue glyphs; Dwemeris. It was a language oddly familiar yet incredibly foreign to her. It resembled Aldmeris in many ways but the sentence structure was reversed in places and it seemed to be lacking vowels and adding in entirely new letters she couldn't even fathom trying to pronounce.

When her mind refused to make sense of the words she instead started studying the images, trying to decipher their meaning. In the center was a woman standing at the Throat of the World, surrounded by dragons. But on either side of this great image were two other strange scenes. On the left was what appeared to be Alduin resurrecting his dead brethren, and on the right was a woman summoning a dragon in a similar way. Rona stared hard at the image of the woman and noticed her features were remarkably similar to the First Maiden…

"Eira," a masculine voice whispered her name.

She turned to see a Dwemer man standing beside her. He was a studious looking fellow with pale blue skin and a thick black beard which was tied into neat braids with gold bands binding the ends. He wore a faded purple tunic with straight gold trim on the hem and sleeves and leather sandals on his feet. He was sporting a fancy pair of round spectacles at the end of his long, bulbous nose and had a rounded pale purple cap fitted to the top of his head. He was holding a very large book in hand and reached out to touch the figure on the wall.

When he spoke again she was stunned to hear that she understood him, although his version of Aldmeris was extremely old-fashioned to her ears.

"(To think the Maiden hadst the power to bind their souls and raiseth them from death. Mayhap the secret lay within her tome?)"

He clutched harder at the enormous book in his arms and Rona recognized it immediately as she spotted the flakey gold lettering on the front which spelled out the words, Faal Vahdin do Dovah Yolos, or The Maiden of Dragon Flame, in Dovahzuul. It was her book. The one Esbern gave to her over half a year ago.

In that moment another more bedraggled Dwemer man approached and started speaking to his colleague in Dwemeris which she could not understand in the slightest. The two spoke quickly, back and forth and it started to get heated between them, with the studious one finally snapping at his fellow and shouting loudly. They seemed to come to an understanding, however, as the studious one quickly calmed himself, nodding his head to the other and gave a brief farewell before turning away to venture somewhere else.

Rona felt compelled to follow him and hurried along after the man. She knew the world she was in was merely a dream and so she worked hard to focus on what she needed to find to keep it going for as long as possible. They weaved their way through several rooms and further down the winding tunnels. Rona caught glimpses of the outside landscape which was a strange, dark place filled with wild glowing fauna and flora of all kinds. Most notable were the towering mushroom stalks that seemed to reach all the way up to the stalactites in the never-ending chasms of the ceiling.

Soon, though, they got to a point where there were no windows to view the outside landscape and they finally came to a stop at a mechanical lift. Rona stepped into the small space and stood alongside the Dwemer man. He seemed somewhat agitated and was deep in thought. She wondered where exactly they were headed. He pulled the lever and the lift shook and down they went, plummeting into the darkest depths of that cold, dark place.

She would have been more claustrophobic over it if she didn't know it was a dream. Memories of her first, horrible dive into a Dwemer ruin with her mother filled her mind until the lift came to a shuddering halt and the metal gates opened. The Dwemer man stepped out and Rona proceeded to follow him. She was horrified to see the snow-elves deep down inside that place, working tirelessly over what appeared to be magma filled forges. She was more alarmed to see that it was the beginning of their peculiar change from Snow-Elves to Falmer. Most had cataracts in their eyes and they were extremely thin and lacking hair on their heads from malnourishment.

The studious man by her side seemed to be making a keen effort not to look at them and whenever he did catch a glimpse of them his face curved into a grimace. There were other Dwemer down there too, most of them were busy inspecting the quality of the gold and brass materials the Snow-Elves were producing and whipping or beating them when they failed to match up to their expectations or simply struggled to stay standing under the grueling conditions.

As they walked along, the sounds of a Dwemer overseer brutally whipping one of the Snow-Elves caught their ears. Rona immediately grit her teeth and turned away from the sight and noticed her current company do the same. He flinched each time the sound of a sharp snap and a pained yowl echoed through the tunnels.

The Dwemer man carried on though, ignoring all of the depravity around them until they came up to an enormous pair of metal doors. They were large enough to fit a dragon through and required a meticulous mechanism on both sides just to open. At the moment they appeared to be locked up tight, with five thick, metal bars spanning across the middle and latching tightly into place.

The studious Dwemer fellow looked up at the two sentries on cliff edges, lined with brass railing on either side of the door and then he glanced to a pedestal sitting nearby with a very unusual looking helmet seated on it. The thing had an entire face mask with slots in the front and the top portion resembled half a bowl with a vivid pink diamond quartz centered in it. He stuck the large book under his arm and put the helmet onto his head.

When he looked back up at the other two sentries, Rona saw they were now wearing the same helmets and although everyone present was totally silent, she noticed the Dwemer man and the two sentries bobbing their heads back and forth, almost as though they were having a conversation. The gems on the heads of the helms lit up back and forth giving further indication that that was exactly what was happening. It was very strange to her and reminded her too much of the time Mrs. Gilseene had a one-sided conversation with the Night Mother.

In less than a minute, this strange moment seemed to end and the Dwemer man pulled the helmet off and placed it back on its pedestal, all while muttering in old-fashioned Aldmeris, "(Blasted miters… must they always smell of fusty, damp rags?)"

As he was grumbling away the sentries up on either side of the doors started to turn two large wheels, making the enormous bronze doors squeal and creek as they began to open. They did not open them all the way though, only partway enough to allow the Dwemer man through. He hurried along shimmying between the partially cracked doors and grumbling some more. Rona continued to follow him in and stopped suddenly at the strange scene that lay before her. The room was filled with faint glowing blue lights and all sorts of machinery most of which had some sort of bubbling, clear-blue substance in them. All around them were Dwemer folk busy at work operating the machinery.

In the center of this peculiar room though was a large dome container filled with the same blue liquid pumping in and out of the tubes throughout the room. And to Rona's shock and alarm there was a woman inside; a Snow-Elf who just floating there, naked and in the fetal position. She was strikingly beautiful, though frail and with skin so pale it was nearly translucent, her hair was long and curling through the liquid. It was a soft, pale strawberry shade a little lighter than her own rosy locks.

Despite floating inside a dome full of liquid the woman didn't look dead, only as though she were sleeping. The Dwemer man stepped aside and spoke to one of his fellows, who was busy monitoring a set of gauges and valves on a panel he stood in front of. The studious man tapped him on the shoulder and began speaking in Dwemeris to him. The one monitoring the gauges nodded his head affirmatively to whatever the studious one said and grasped a large lever, pulling it. All of a sudden the tubes in the room began pumping and draining themselves of the strange blue substance inside of them.

Then the dome in the center began to drain and the woman within slowly floated to the bottom of the container until she was just laying there with her long hair sticking all along her body, down to her bottom. A pair of Dwemer men quickly opened the round door to the container and stepped inside. They gagged, bound and lifted the woman to her feet as she groggily started to come to. When she opened her eyes though, Rona noticed immediately that they were highly unusual. They didn't look real.

Her irises were a mixture of bright and dark blues and her pupils, which should have been black, were a sharp glowing red. Her scleras were a normal white, if not metallic-looking when the light hit them. The woman's strange eyes swiveled wildly around the room and she jerked and twitched in the hands of the two holding her. She looked frightened and confused. But as her gaze landed on the studious Dwemer man standing before her she froze and Rona could see her irises rotating around like a cog wheel and her pupils glowing red in an expanding and retracting fashion. It was almost like she was absorbing the information in front of her in a robotic way.

The Dwemer man took a step toward her and she leaned back as far as she could while being restrained. The studious Dwemer stopped himself and cleared his throat, "(Doth not beest alarmed, Nirafina. We has't restored thy sight. We has't given thee new eyes.)"

She blinked her new eyes several times and looked as though she wanted to cry. Her body went limp like she'd just given up all hope and the only thing keeping her up were the two stone-faced Dwemer men on either side of her.

The studious Dwemer looked at each of them and started speaking to them in old Aldmeris, either not realizing he was doing so, or possibly doing it for her benefit, "(Please… my lady needn't be restrained this way. Nirafina will not harm us, she only wishes to help. Please unbind her.)"

Another Dwemer man stepped forward then. He appeared to be the person in charge of this strange operation. He looked so much like the studious one except that he had a wild untamed black beard and scraggly hair billowing out from under the cap on his head. His clothes were the same too, save for a strange, thick metal gauntlet which wrapped around his right arm and up to his shoulder. He looked sharply at the studious fellow and spoke sternly, "(Leaveth her bound and gagged. Thoust remember what happened the last time we allowed her to be free. No, not again… She will be heard with the miters. Taketh her to the attuning room for another reading.)"

But the studious Dwemer objected to this, "(Mzinch, I beg thee, she hath only freshly becometh accustomed to her new eyes. She needeth more time-)"

"(ENOUGH ALFT! Thither is little time. Taketh the lady to read the scroll. Now.)"

The tiny Snow-Elf merely slumped in the arms of the Dwemer men who easily lifted her small, frail body under her arms and carried her along into another nearby room, with her feet dragging on the metal floor behind her.

Alft and Mzinch followed them bickering back and forth, shifting between Dwemeris and Aldmeris the entire way. Rona could only catch pieces of their conversation as a result.

"(Raldbthar hath said the lady needeth more time to heal, to become accustomed to her new eyes)," Alft argued.

"(Raldbthar is a fool. We cannot wait any longer. The war is upon us. Lord Kagrenac needeth know everything. He will beest arriving to heareth our report on the morrow)," Mzinch was firm with his words and although Alft continued to try and argue his case in Dwemeris he was shut down at every turn.

She continued to follow them as they took the young Snow-Elf up a stairwell that surrounded a huge brass sphere with large turquoise circular panels set into the metal. Rona remembered seeing the room if only for a moment in one of her first dreams there. She recalled how she begged and begged the Dwemer to tell her where the scroll was despite the fact that they could not hear her because she wasn't really there. Now, though, she knew that it was buried in the depths of the underground in that terrifying place somewhere beneath one of the Dwemer ruins.

The names of those three were not lost on her either. Raldbthar, Mzinchaleft, and Alftand were the names of several Dwemer ruins out in The Pale, the northern part of Skyrim. She'd always had a feeling that Mzinchaleft had the answers she needed. Now she was almost sure of it. And if not that one, then it was definitely in one of the other two.

Suddenly the two Dwemer carrying the Snow-Elf stopped their march at the top center of the Dwarven sphere and simply held her there. Mzinch raised his metal gloved hand to a group of Dwemer perched along the raised back wall with a set of panels and switches in front of them. They set to work immediately and in seconds the turquoise refractors on the ceiling began to shift and move around, reflecting light against the walls in various places until finally the release clicked into place and the receptacle holding the Elder Scroll came down and opened for them.

Rona hardly noticed or realized that all of the Dwemer, including Mzinch and Alft, had put miter helms on until Mzinch approached the receptacle, carefully drawing the scroll out of its container with his metal gloved hand. She watched closely as he turned around and stood in front of Nirafina. Her head hung low against her naked chest and her breathing was slow and steady. Her hair was mostly dry now and Rona noticed her short bangs barely covering a strange glowing crest on her forehead that was shaped like a diamond.

The pink quartz set into the forehead of the miter on Mzinch's head seemed to react to this as it glowed brightly in return. Mzinch grasped her chin into his ungloved hand and lifted her face to look at him and spoke aloud, "(Thoust wilt readeth the scroll and telleth the way to kill the World Eater. Showeth the way to immortality and to the Godhead! Lord Kagrenac commands it!)"

Nirafina stared hard at the Dwemer before her looking angrier and angrier by the second. Her forehead lit up brighter than ever making the gem on Mzinch's miter react. Rona was sure she was communicating with him somehow, especially when he released her chin and slapped her sharply across the face and snapped at her, "(Filthy whey-skin. How dare thee utter such putrid nonsense! Watch thoust tongue lest we cut it free and burn it with your eyes.)"

"(Mzinch)," Alft stepped forward and spoke firmly, "(Touch the Dragonborn again and I assure thee, Raldbthar wilt heareth of it.)"

Mzinch glanced over at his fellow and seemed to second guess his words, or perhaps they spoke telepathically through the helms which were still flickering back and forth. Alft looked to Nirafina though and spoke to her, softly and gently, "(Please, Nirafina… I beg thee. Time is running short and war is coming. Alduin groweth ever stronger and we needeth some way to stop him. All of Nirn is depending on thee.)"

She looked on resentfully at him as their gems glowed back and forth in conversation and finally he turned his head from her and said, "(Thoust knoweth freedom is not feasible…)"

(The music is Blackout by Two Steps from Hell)

"(Enough of this trivial nonsense)," Mzinch scoffed, holding the scroll up horizontally in front of her, "(READ IT.)"

Nirafina shook her head madly but the second he opened the scroll her mechanical eyes locked onto it and her entire body lurched painfully forward, almost as though she was being sucked into it. Everyone else in the room was looking away from the thing despite wearing the helms on their heads, all of which were lighting up as wildly and brightly as the gem on Nirafina's forehead. Rona almost felt compelled to look at the scroll herself, but even in the dreamscape it was nauseating for her and made her ears ring from the strange sounds it emitted.

She noticed something terrifying happening to Nirafina as well. Parts of her skin slowly started to etch with glowing words straight from Dovahzuul and her face, despite being gagged, was trapped in a permanent scream. Soon the entire room started to shake and shudder with a force that could not be seen, only felt. And Rona not only felt it, but she heard it. All of Nirafina's words and shrieks burrowed into her mind almost worse than when she held the newly attuned Lexicon for the first time.

Her soft voice came in quickly, her words rambling as images of the past, future and present infected her mind.

"(I see it, the Red Mountain. He hath found the Heart of Lorkhan in its depths and hath torn it apart, forging his vicious tools. He hast madeth the Numidium, but it will be taken from thee during the great Battle of the Red Mountain. Thoust seek immortality, thoust seek to join the gods, to ascend and become the Godhead itself, but what thoust truly sees is mere fabrication. All 'tis a lie. The Mundus is a dream and the World Eater is meant to wake us from it. None can stop him. Even I, the Dragonborn, cannot stop him. Thither only one who can save us from him. But she is far in the future watching us now, searching for a way. You must free me! You must set me free so that she might live! SET ME FREE FROM FAL'ZHARDUM DIN! FROM THE BANES OF YOUR NAMES!"

And then a pair of great dragon wings burst from her shoulder blades as she shouted,

"VUL THUR YOL!"

Though she was still gagged, she shouted with the power of her mind a shout which shook the entirety of that place to its very core. The two Dwemer holding Nirafina let her go, falling over while clutching at their helms where their ears would have been. Mzinch did the same, falling backward, still holding the scroll in one hand. Miraculously Alft was able to stay steady and caught Nirafina in his arms. He quickly cut her bindings a pulled the cloth from her mouth with a strange blue glowing dagger and threw his miter helm off.

(What hast thou done?)" He asked her with fear in his eyes.

She smiled at him and said, "(I have called upon my dragon. He awaits me in the depths of Fal'Zhardum Din, I must go to him)," then Nirafina looked right where Rona was standing and spoke directly to her, "(Revive them Dragonborn. Cleanse their souls of Alduin's corruption and revive them. Paarthurnax will guide thee. The rest thoust now know.)" And this time she shouted right at Rona, "YOL TOOR SHUL!" casting her into a fiery inferno which shook her awake.

She took a moment to catch her breath and get a handle on her bearings, feeling the soft, dewy grass under her hands as she looked up at the first morning rays of light shining through fog-covered holes in the open ceiling cave. Her heart was pounding in her chest and her head was throbbing. Those dreams always took the most out of her, because they were too real.

The pain in her head started to fade though when her mind began wandering over everything she'd just witnessed and what Nirafina had said to her. "Fal'Zhardum Din," she whispered. She did not want to forget its name. It was Dwemeris and she knew she could translate it somehow.

"Paaz sul Dovahkiin," Rona tilted her head back and to her left. Rektuhah was still nestled in his place on the grass beside her. She sat up noticing that Odahviing had vanished from his own nest, however.

"He has gone to hunt. He was… how do you say, kipnu?"

"Famished?" She guessed.

"Geh," he rumbled, "Very famished."

"[I can speak Dragon tongue if you prefer]," she said in Dovahzuul.

He slowly shook his head, "Nid… I must practice the tongue of the joor… of the humans. It is important that we dov learn to communicate in your language, or we shall never learn your ways."

Rona gave him a quick once over and saw that he was still horribly wounded in many places. She got up and started to mend him saying, "I'm so sorry this happened to you. I would have healed you last night but I ran out of magicka."

"No apologies are necessary Dovahkiin. We knew the risk we were taking when we set out to find you."

She paused for a moment, still hovering her healing hands up and down a gash in his side and asked, "Why would you risk your lives for me? I thought you all wanted me dead…"

Rektuhah took his time answering that one while she carried on mending him, "We believed that what we did to you was right. It has always been our way to follow the strongest. But you have proved many times over that you are much stronger than he is," he looked down at her as she finished healing the holes in the webbing of his wings, "…even if you do not believe you are."

Rona craned her neck up, meeting his gaze and felt absolutely no malice from him, only warmth, kindness and a deep concern. She made to speak when they heard the low roar of a dragon outside the cave. Odahviing returned, landing softly on the grass just outside the cave before coming in, carrying the bloodied chunk of a portion of mammoth hide in his maw. He walked over to his brethren and placed the food before them, nudging it with his nose, encouraging them to eat. The two Blood dragons were the first to dig into the meal, taking several large chunks out of the hide and then the others stepped forward looking to fill their hungry bellies.

Odahviing looked back at the ridge where Rona and Rektuhah were resting and he flapped his wings a few times, gaining height for a moment before carefully landing by them. He looked over his brother and then turned to Rona, seemingly smiling at her as he said, "It is good to see you are well young one. I apologize for not bringing you any food. You are free to feast on the mammoth, though I am sure you would prefer a pastry. Sadly I have no talent in making such things."

Rona grinned up at him laughing and said, "I suppose I'll have to teach you someday!"

"I would enjoy that very much," he rumbled, lowering his head to her. She could swear he was purring at the very thought of learning how to make all his favorite sweets.

She caressed his snout with one hand, before tearing up a bit and pressing her forehead to his maw and sniffled, "I'm so glad you're alright. I tried to call you for days and days. But when you never came, I just knew something awful had happened to you."

"I know," he rumbled mournfully, "I heard your shouts on several occasions but I could not move. I am grateful to my brothers for finding you… but pained for the loss of one of our own," he looked back out over the mossy cliffs, motioning to the place where Krozeim had been nesting the night before but who was at the moment nowhere to be found, "Our brother mourns for the loss of Mulsotek but he will return soon. We are to leave for the Throat of the World as soon as you are ready, Dovahkiin."

"I should heal the others," she said, although she was feeling like her magic was nearly drained again. She wasn't used to healing such large creatures.

"The others are fine for the time being," Odahviing said, "Their wounds are not as life-threatening as ours were," he added nodding to Rektuhah, "I will admit I am eager to leave soon. There is no knowing if the Revered are nearby, or even Nosvaat for that matter."

"The Revered?" Rona asked curiously.

"They are the colorful, little dovah you faced usul… the day before. We are calling them the Revered, for they mindlessly revere Alduin Thuri. They are not true dov and are incapable of independent thought."

"They're Nords," she said, "They have the souls of the dead Nords from Sovngarde."

"I know," Odahviing said sorrowfully, "Come. We must speak with Paarthurnax."

Odahviing cast off the ground then and flew back down to the others and spoke to them in Dovahzuul. Rona looked on thoughtfully at her old friend and realized just how frightened he really was. She'd never seen him so worried in all the time she'd known him, but now something had changed.

"He is confident that Paarthurnax will have all the fahraal… the answers. But I am not so sure," Rektuhah said, "Odahviing is still rather young for a dov. And with youth comes a certain hinz… an ignorance."

"Naivety," she said clarifying for him, "He's not ignorant. Naïve maybe, but I think he might be right. Last night I had a dream about the Elder Scroll and its whereabouts," she glanced up at the bronze beast, "A Dragonborn named Nirafina saw me there. She spoke directly to me and told me where to find it, but she also told me something else…" Rektuhah looked on at her with deep interest and she explained, "She told me to revive them. To cleanse their souls and revive them."

Rektuhah's eyes widened in lieu of this information and he said, "We must leave immediately Dovahkiin." He flapped his wings hard and flew up then downward where the others were each exiting the cave and heading outside where the sunlight was now touching on a fogless landscape.

Odahviing called to her, "[Make haste Dragonborn! We fly shortly!]"

Rona smiled, relishing the thought of flying with them all again, only this time it wouldn't be to escape the shouts and claws of the orange furies. This time it would be different. She hurried down the slope and met them all outside. Krozeim had returned from his travels and was speaking heatedly with Rektuhah, "[The disgusting scavengers... Mange ridden felines. They were busy picking off parts of his bones as though they were trophies to hoard. I managed to chase them off and burned the tails of two of them]," he growled angrily and gnashed his jaws, "[I only regret not snatching their juvenile and tearing it to pieces]."

Rona listened to this horrified and Odahviing shouted, "[Watch yourself, Krozeim. It is not wise to speak ill of the mortals in our present company]."

Krozeim snapped back at Odahviing, "[Or what!? She will slaughter me and take my soul?]" Then he flashed his furious gaze at her and sneered, "[I dare you to try it mortal. I would easily gouge out your throat.]"

"[Krozeim]," Rektuhah's lip curled revealing his pointed teeth and his voice rumbled in a low warning, "[You are pressing your good fortune brother. Threaten her again and it is you who will have your throat in my maw.]"

Krozeim looked around at the entire group of dragons and, suddenly realizing he was outnumbered, gave a disgruntled scoff and slunk his shoulders, turning away from them in a huff.

It seemed that although these dragons had risked their lives to help her, some of them still resented her and saw her as a threat against them. It was clear that for at least some of them, she was their last resort. She only wondered how long it would be before the others voiced their concerns over allying with her and perhaps even turned on her.

She wasn't sure if she could fight against that many huge dragons, not in her current state anyway, with her thu'um weakened as it was and her mental state not being at its peak. But she tried to push the thought from her mind when Odahviing lowered his head to her and said, "Do not concern yourself with our brother. We will not allow any here to harm you. That was our agreement," then he tilted his horn further down and urged her, "Now come. Let us fly together."

(The Music is Dragon by Two Steps from Hell)

Rona nodded her head and confidently reached out, grasping his horn and pulled herself up onto his head. The moment he felt her climb up he raised his head high and looked around at the others shouting, "[Brothers! Today we fly together! Today we become a clan once more! Take to the skies! Feel the wind beneath your wings!]"

Then he roared fire to the clear blue sky and the others did the same, shouting their thu'ums with one another before harshly beating their wings in the air and taking flight. Rona could feel the excitement all around them and couldn't help but smile. In seconds they were off and in the air, with the wind whipping her face and dragons all around her were roaring loudly, sharing in this incredible moment. Despite what happened the day before their collective feelings resonated as optimistic and excited.

It was electrifying to her, so much so that it wasn't long before their current company doubled as the Maidens of yore appeared all around them, riding on the heads and backs of the dragons. Taniil was the first she saw, vocalizing to the skies as she danced upon Rektuhah's head. There were others too that Rona vaguely knew from her dreams and from her battles. She recognized Kitaere seated on the back of one of the Blood dragons in all her Forsworn glory and another, a white-haired Redguard woman, Shexa the Sharp grasping the spines of a Frost dragon while Fralevi the Strong, a blonde Nordic woman leaned on one of its horns.

Most notable, however, was the woman with the wild mane of fiery-red locks billowing in the wind. Eira was riding on the head of an Ancient dragon who flew just ahead of Odahviing. She was staring ever so intently at the mountain peak in the distance for that was where she desired to be most. That was where her beloved roosted in all his millennia on Nirn, eternally waiting for the few glimpses he would have of her when a Maiden of Dragon Flame came calling once every hundred years or so.

It was a strange group that had come together like this, with so many enormous, powerful, beastly dragons and the very Dragonborn who they once opposed. Rona knew she was a part of something great and it made her feel truly blessed for once, even though she knew the feeling would be fleeting, she clung to it and wrapped her heart in it.

Odahviing spoke beneath her and with a grin, he said, "How does it feel young one? To be a part of a clan?"

"Amazing," she said as she looked on in awe at the others around her.

"This is our way… our true way. How we were meant to be before Alduin…," he paused for a minute and nearly mumbled the rest in Dovahzuul, "[Paarthurnax will change their minds on the matter. He must if we are to survive this.]"

Rona wondered what exactly he was talking about but held her tongue. She wanted to enjoy the moment for what it was and when she was in the air flying it was the greatest feeling to her. This was her freedom from everything else. She only wished that she too could fly with them and then she remembered Nirafina and the wings that had burst from her back and she wondered…

Soon the group rose to great altitudes and before long they were circling the Throat of the World and roaring their greetings to Paarthurnax below. The old grey dragon was perched upon the word wall, with his head cocked to the side as he watched them all, eyeing them suspiciously but not making a move against them. Rona was sure he'd heard her music and Taniil singing to the skies, so he knew she was with them.

The entire group of dragons slowly descended one by one, finding places to perch upon the mountain and around the snowy plateau near the Word Wall. Odahviing and Rektuhah both came to a soft landing right by Paarthurnax and Odahviing lowered his head, allowing Rona to slip down his neck. She approached Paarthurnax smiling brightly up at him, calling, "Paarthurnax!"

His jowls rose on either side, grinning as he greeted her and then his brothers, "Paaz sul, Dovahkiin. Drem yol lok dii Zeymah."

"Drem yol lok, Paarthurnax Thuri," Odahviing and Rektuhah said simultaneously.

The old beast turned his attentions back to her and said, "I am pleased to see you are well Lady Rona. I must admit I was concerned for your well being after our last meeting. But ah… I see you have been staying drenaal… you have been keeping busy."

"[Lord Paarthurnax]," Odahviing said, "[There is much to discuss. It concerns Lord Alduin and the Dragonborn.]"

Paarthurnax turned his head to his junior, slowly nodding and said, "[I sensed as much. Please. Tell me everything.]"

A young female Altmer approached the gates to the College of Winterhold. She'd been busy reading up on the properties of shock magic when used in conjunction with alchemy when her signal marker went off, indicating that someone was attempting to enter. Without prior notice of new applicants and the fact that they were on their winter break, it was odd for anyone to try and enter the College at all. She strongly suspected it might have been one of the locals there to complain about some of the loud explosions from earlier when J'zargo had so stupidly been testing his flame cloak scrolls up on one of the towers and summoning the undead in swarms to do so.

Fortunately, Master Thoraminh responded quickly and put a stop to his antics immediately. Faralda, however, was not looking forward to even attempting to appease any angry townsfolk. She was especially disinclined to do so since her skills with Restoration and therefore her pacify spell, was mediocre at best. Still, she took her job as the College's gatekeeper seriously and she would do her best so as not to bother or disappoint the Arch-Mage.

It was difficult to see through the blizzard that was raging outside, but she did notice someone dressed head to toe in thin robes with their arms crossed over, standing at the gates and shivering in the snow. She immediately called out to them saying, "Turn back now citizen! It is dangerous within these walls and you will not gain entry!"

The person merely shook their head, or perhaps they gave a stark shiver, it was hard to tell, so she continued her march through the snow and said, "If this is about the explosions from earlier, I assure you that they have been taken care of. I will let the Arch-Mage know of your concerns and your visit."

"Yes, that is who this one needs to see," a thick Khajiiti accent caught her ears. She finally reached the gates and peered through them, only to be met with not one of the locals but a black striped Khajiit man in temples robes. He was clutching his shoulders tightly and looked absolutely miserable. She noticed that he had a piece of parchment crunched in one hand and he mumbled through chattering teeth, "M'aiq is here to deliver a letter to the Altmer called Serlas."

Faralda looked him up and down then reached a hand out and said, "I'll be sure he gets it."

M'aiq took a step back, shifting away from her despite the enormous gate separating them, "M'aiq has traveled all the way from the Dawn of Stars to the Forests of Falk searching for the Altmer called Serlas. When he was nowhere to be found on his farm, the Mage called Illia sent M'aiq back here again. This one is tired and hoping for a warm bed from his travels."

Faralda narrowed her eyes at him, "I cannot let anyone in who's neither a student, a scholar, nor a professor. I will gladly compensate you for your delivery so you may rent a room at the inn, but under no circumstances can I allow you onto the grounds."

M'aiq's ears lowered and he hissed angrily, "M'aiq promised the one who calls herself Jill that it would arrive in safe hands and he is not about to cross her. This one will deliver it himself."

"Jill?" Faralda asked, raising a brow, "Who is Jill?"

"The Dragonborn," he replied tersely as he casually swiped at a small pile of snow forming on his shoulder.

Faralda threw a hand to her chest and burst into a haughty laughter and spat out, "The Dragonborn's name isn't Jill! What sort of preposterous nonsense is this? And for your information," she added, lowering her voice, "The Dragonborn is dead. Everyone knows that." Faralda had learned to be careful where she stated that fact. Any time one of the staff or students mentioned it around the Arch-Mage he would go stone cold quiet and quickly excuse himself from the room. It was clearly still very upsetting for him.

M'aiq growled at her, "M'aiq knows that the one who calls herself Jill is not truly called Jill but M'aiq did not want to lose his head when the Dragonborn threatened him for not calling her Jill. Oh and the Dragonborn is very much alive. This one saw her when she killed the snow-bear and heard her voice. It was very loud."

Faralda bit her lip, trying to hold back her laughter. She absolutely could not believe the ludicrous drivel this cat was spewing and speculated his note was nothing more than blithering nonsense since he was so obviously mad.

She made to speak again when the gates suddenly opened up. She and M'aiq both looked up at them, totally surprised by this sudden change of events. Then they heard the shouting of two students out on the bridge and turned towards them.

"Faralda! Faralda!" Brelyna cried with Onmund following close at her heels. She too was holding a piece of parchment in hand, although hers was much larger than M'aiq's and appeared to be a leaflet of some kind. "We have to get this to Arch-Mage Thoraminh right away!"

The two students ran right up to her holding the leaflet out and Faralda snatched it from Brelyna snapping, "What's all this then?"

"It's about," Brelyna clutched her knees, trying to catch her breath, "It's about – Master Thoraminh's daughter."

"What about her?" Faralda demanded, getting irritable.

"She's alive!"

Faralda looked at her utterly stunned. She'd heard the Arch-Mage insist that his daughter was in fact still alive, but most people hadn't really believed it, including her. She started to scan the leaflet and muttered, "What do you mean she's alive?"

"She was seen out in Whiterun… and heard," Onmund gasped, also catching his breath.

"There are thousands of dragons out there too and huge portals to Sovngarde that opened up all around the city!" Brelyna declared with a tremble of fear and awe.

Faralda looked between the three of them, her two students and the strange Khajiit man holding the supposed letter from the Dragonborn. She glanced back down at the leaflet and read the headline, THE DRAGONBORN LIVES.

Her pulse quickened and she said severely, "All of you, come with me right now."

She turned and headed towards the great hall before looking back at M'aiq who was still standing there, shivering in the cold and looking around at all the floating lights with mild curiosity.

"Well!?"

"Hm?" He perked up, meeting her sharp gaze.

"You too! You have a letter to deliver don't you!?"

M'aiq grinned at her and quickly followed, matching her footsteps in the snow. He started bargaining and rambling, "M'aiq would be very pleased to be compensated with a warm bed and a belly full of food for his troubles. Perhaps he can share with you his knowledge in exchange. After all, M'aiq knows many things."