The Dragonborn awoke to an intense throbbing sensation in the back of his skull. After laying still and taking a moment to allow for the thoughts his mind to settle, Talion slowly sat up, ignoring the slight aching pain that coursed through his body, and quickly glanced around at his surroundings.
He was sitting to the far side of a circular chamber, that seem to stretch over three hundred feet across, with a enormous stone dais sprouting out of the center of a large, orange glowing pit, upon which rest an assortment of dark objects. Scattered throughout the walls of the chamber, were rows upon rows of bench-like shelves that stretched all the way up to reach the top of the two hundred foot high ceiling. And resting with each alcove that dotted the disk-shaped wall, rested a lone shimmering orb.
As the heir of Akatosh gaze upon both the objects on the dais and the orbs resting in the walls of the chamber, his dragon soul and all the countless others he had devoured, began humming from being in the presence of the objects and orbs. But he had no opportunity to examine either the wall or the dark objects, for his attention was drawn downwards as felt the shifting weight of a scaley creature resting in his lap.
The creature resting in his lap was small, being no bigger than the common snow fox found in the frozen tundra of Skyrim, and wisps of black smoke rose from the creatures tiny nostrils. Talion recoiled in shock then awe. Lying fast asleep in the middle of his lap, lay a dragon.
The baby dragon was unlike any other dragon he had ever seen. Unlike the colossal, bipedal, dull scaled Elder Kin of mundus, who's front legs stretched into two massive wings, the hatchling before the Dovahkiin was quadrupal, like those of the metallic and chromatic breeds of dragon, with scales as smooth as black ebony crystals.
The head of that dragon was roughly rectangular and resembled that of an Akaviry brown dragon, while a small set of spiraled sat in-between another pair of deeply curved horns like those found on ancient legendary dragons. Tiny black needle-like fangs poked out from dragon's upper jaw and a line of tiny spikes traveled down from the base of its head to the tip of its tail, like a long, serrated whip. A hollow where its neck and shoulders joined created a larger-than-normal gap between the spikes. The dragon's wings were several times longer than its body and ribbed with thin fingers of bone that extended from the wing's front edge, forming a line of widely spaced talons. Its claws were also dark, like shining black dagger, with slightly serrations on the inside curve. A hot sensation brought his attention to his gaulented hand and upon taking it off, found a circular scar on his palm that growled with a faint grey light.
The Dragonborn was shocked as instead of invoking the infamous primal hunger that came with being Dovahkiin, he felt a sense of protectiveness that any mother would feel from their offspring.
"Good. It seems you two have taken a liking to one another, as I knew you would." The voice snapped him from his reverie as he stood up, and drew his ebony sword, Ultear and pointed the black blade in the direction the voice at come from. Standing before him a robed man stood with his hands clasped before him, as he examine him with glowed eyes that glittered and sparked with golden light. The man was tall with broad and well built shoulders, and long black hair that hung loosely down his back and appeared to be in his third decade: at the height of his strength. Upon the man's head was a crown of white gold set with all manner of clear jewels. A long pale sword sat at his hip. The Dragonborn was stunned, as he looked upon the man before him. He had met this man many centuries ago when he had finally bested Alduin in the Nordic afterlife, of Sovngarde. It was his father. Akatosh.
"But you're an Aedra. . . so how is it possible for you to be here?" The Dragonborn asked, as he met his father's eyes.
"While indeed difficult for some, it is still quite possibly for the most powerful of the gods to walk among the mortal race," Akatosh answered his lips stretched into a small smile.
"But why then do you need me here?"
"We aedra do not typically intervene directly in events, an exception being the Oblivion Crisis," Akatosh explained in a patient manner. "If we were to constantly overcome the problems of mortal kin on their behalf, then the mortal races would become too dependent upon the gods and thus sacrifice their own freedom. But when a crisis does occur we do not sit idle and that is why I have brought you here and have bonded you with a dragon."
"Bonded with a dragon?" The Dragonborn wondered what his father was saying.
"You are now known to this land as a Dragon Rider; and ancient order created when the dragons and elves of this world forged an irrevocable bond: the elves providing the structure of the spell and the dragons providing the strength, thus creating the legendary Dragon Riders. To protect and guard was their mission, and for thousands of years they succeeded. Their prowess in battle was unmatched, for each had the strength of ten men. They were immortal unless blade or poison took them. Their powers were only used for good, and under their watchful eyes tall cities and towers were built out of the living stone. While they kept peace, the land flourished. It was a golden time. The races of man, elves and dwarves were friends and allies. Wealth flowed into the cities, and men prospered. But it was not to last. . . for their down fall came at the hands of one of their own, a boy be the name of Galbatorix."
"At an young age Galbatorix has proven to be an exceptional rider, exceeding most others in skill. And it was soon after his training with the Riders was finished, Galbatorix took a reckless trip with two friends, into the far north, and into enemy territory, foolishly thinking their new powers would protect them. Their assumptions were soon proven false as his friends and their dragons were butchered in their sleep and Galbatorix himself severely wounded. Eventually Galbortorix management to slaw his attacks, but at the cost of his dragon's life, and so the seeds of madness that would make Sheogorath proud were planted."
"Eventually returning to the home of the Riders, Galbatorix sought out the members of the Riders Elder Council and demanded the Council to give him another dragon, but the Council realizing the the level of dementia within the young Riders mind, denied him a new dragon."
"Denied his hope, Galbatorix, was driven by madness to believe that it was the Rider's fault his dragon had died planned to destroy them all. He then fled into the woods to bid his time, until one day he came across a young Rider by the name of Morzan. Morzan strong of body, but weak of mind. Galbatorix convinced Morgan to join his cause, and thought him black magic. Later Morzan left a gate open, enabling Galbatorix to sneak in and steal a dragon hatchling, murdering the original Rider in the process. Galbatorix was then able to twist the dragon's mind and make the dragon obey him and to believe that he was its Rider, through the use of black magic."
"It was then that Galbortorix and his new disciple hid themselves in an evil place where the Riders dared not venture. There Morzan entered into a dark apprenticeship, learning secrets and forbidden magic that should never have been revealed. When his instruction was finished and Galbatorix's black dragon, Shruikan, was fully grown, Galbatorix revealed himself to the world, with Morzan at his side. Together they fought any Rider they met. With each kill their strength grew. Twelve of the Riders joined Galbatorix out of desire for power and revenge against perceived wrongs. Those twelve, with Morzan, became the Thirteen Forsworn. Together they caught the Dragon Riders unaware and they soon fell beneath the onslaught. The elves, too, fought bitterly against Galbatorix, but they were overthrown and forced to flee to their home of Ellesméra that resides within the forest of Du Weldenvarden, from whence they come no more."
"Only the leader of the Riders, Vrael, could resist Galbatorix and the Forsworn. Ancient and wise, he struggled to save what he could and keep the remaining dragons from falling to his enemies. In the last battle, before the gates of Dorú Areaba, Vrael defeated Galbatorix, but hesitated with the final blow. Galbatorix seized the moment and smote him in the side. Grievously wounded, Vrael fled to Utgard Mountain, where he hoped to gather strength. But it was not to be, for Galbatorix had proven to be too powerful as he continued in his slaughter, and anointed himself king over all Alagaësia. Crushed by the fall of the Riders and by his failure to stop the traitous Riders, Vreal returned home in exile with the rest of the elves to Ellesméra."
Talion let a wave of uneasyness pass through thin, as his father's heated gaze fall upon him. "Your task, my son, is to destroy this foul mortal who thinks so highly of himself to dare control one of my children, along with killing most of the others. I will not tolerate his existence any further and you will be the instrument of my will, the one to accomplish this."
As his father's strongest heir, as well as being kin to all dragons the Dragonborn knew well why his father choose him to be the one to complete the task he had given, but the Dragonborn was not so foulish as to dive head first into a quest with so little information. "How can you expect me to win against this foe without the necessary knowledge? I don't know the land and from what I could glean of your explanation, there has to be some form of magic or other for this human to have taken control of one of my brothers and I know little of it, let alone the way this people use it in this realm."
Akatosh let out a low sidistice chuckle, before gesturing towards the dark objects upon the stone dais. "Because your brothers and sisters will help teach and share their memories with you for the first few centuries. They are listening even now, from within their Eldunari, a kind of soul gem you are familiar with, and they know of your task. Learn well and destroy the enemies of your race, my son. You did me proud when you claimed the title of Thuri after destroying Alduin, despite how much it pains me to see two of my children clash against one another, I know that you will not fail me. Farewell, my son." And with those words a golden flash of light filled the chamber, and the dragon god of time vanished.
Soon, another presence entered his mind, but this seemed to be a collective, a union between single minds to form another. Greetings, brother, my name is Belgabad, and as the largest and oldest dragon not bonded with a Rider at the time of their fall, I will be speaking for all the Eldunari free from Galbatorix's control, we were contacted by our father with the task of instructing you and your dragon the ways of the Dragon Riders. We kindly ask that you to hold still, as to ensure that all our memories being transferred to you are done so correctly and that any information deemed unnecessary does not get forced upon you as the minds of the younger wild dragons often wander.
Talion only had a heartbeat to ready himself before memory after memory poured into him: a cascade of knowledge and experiences—battles won and battles lost, loves, hates, spells, events witnessed throughout the land, regrets, realizations, the knowledge of a language similar to ehlnofex, ways inwhich one could use when dealing with elves, humans, dwarves, urgralgra and other ponderings concerning the workings of the world. The dragons of Alagaësia possessed thousands of years of knowledge, and they seemed driven to share every last bit.
The speed in which the torrent of information poured out from the eldunari would have any lesser man overwhelmed and confused, but thanks to his dragon soul, the speed in which the memories flooded into him had been greatly decreases; to the point where the Dragonborn was fully able inspect and decipher the needed information from the passing memory before allowing another memory to take their place.
When the eldunari had finally finished sharing all their memories, the Dragonborn felt like he had personally witness the passing of centuries all without having live through them, a feel he had experienced when devoring the soul of a dragon.
Satisfaction came from Belgabad as he stated, We will still need to see if you were able to fully grasp that which had been shared with you, but worry not Talion-elda, that knowledge shall prove to be useful, that we can guarantee.
"I have no doubt that it will, Belgabad. " Talion said aloud in the ancient language, testing to see how the words in this new language felt, as he rolled them around on his togue.