They parted in Winterhold, as Vilkas had suggested. He wanted Cry to sleep, to recover from the injuries she'd sustained in the Dwemer ruin, but she knew that if she slept, she'd wake up at nightfall, and it'd be too late to get a carriage. Vilkas relented only when she assured him that she'd rent a room in Ivarstead and rest before heading up the 7000 Steps, which she had no intention of doing, and didn't do, either.
Once the carriage reached Ivarstead, she jumped off, and headed immediately for the other end of the village, for the Steps, and she started up them. It was dangerous, she knew, what with darkness falling, but she wanted to get up the mountain, and get the whole thing over with.
She should have known that Arngeir wouldn't have that, though.
"Absolutely not," he said, when she reached High Hrothgar, and told him her intentions, showing off the Elder Scroll for proof. "It is pitch black outside, and the path to Paarthurnax is dangerous enough in the daylight." When Cry moved to voice her argument, he shook his head in response. "No. I won't have it. You will rest here tonight, and then at first light, if you must, you may head up the mountain."
Cry groaned, but knew that she wouldn't be able to convince him, no matter what he said. She also knew that, somehow, he'd know if she tried to sneak out once she thought all the Greybeards were asleep, and so she squashed that idea before it could really form in her head, and following Arngeir glumly down the hall to a spare room that she'd never seen before. It had a cot against one wall, and a small table in the opposite corner.
"Sit," Arngeir said. "I will bring you some food."
"You don't have to," Cry said.
"Nonsense," he retorted, and disappeared before she could say anything else.
Cry sighed, but all the same sank down onto the edge of the bed and tugged off her boots. She then started on her armor, knowing that Arngeir was acting like this because he felt bad about their last interaction. She hoped he knew that there were no hard feelings, especially since she'd managed to find the Elder Scroll.
After a few minutes, Arngeir came back, holding a tray of food. He set it down on the table, and Cry shuffled over to it, sitting down in a chair there.
"Who cooks out of the four of you?" she asked, admiring how hearty the soup that he'd brought appeared to be.
"Master Borri," Arngeir replied. "You'll stay?"
"Yes," Cry said. She looked up at him, and offered him a smile. "Thank you, Master Arngeir."
He merely shook his head. "I do what I can, Dragonborn," he said, and then he walked out of the room again, closing the door behind him. Cry looked down at the soup in front of her, and smiled again, before digging in. She was hungry.
When she was done eating, she left the dishes on the tray, and moved back to the cot. She settled down on it, huffing a little at how stiff it was, but decided it was better than sleeping on the floor. It didn't matter, not really, since she never found herself well rested anymore anyway.
She closed her eyes, and fell asleep within minutes. Her dreams were as they always were, racing through darkened woods from the perspective of a wolf, and she was the wolf. The smell of prey all around her, confusing her senses, making it hard to decipher where to run next. There were so many choices. She woke up more than once from sounds within her dream and without, dragon roars and wolf howls and wind blowing. Overall, it wasn't a peaceful night by any means.
She was relieved, then, when the sun made its first appearance, and she was free to start up the path to where Paarthurnax made his home near the Time Wound. The dragon seemed to have been waiting for her; he perched on top of the Word Wall, as he had before, and watched as she approached, holding the Elder Scroll under one arm.
"You have it," he said, not sounding surprised or amazed, or even amused, which she'd come to expect of him. He simply sounded resigned. "The Kel - the Elder Scroll. Tiid kreh… qalos. Time shudders at its touch." He looked at her, instead of at the Elder Scroll she carried, and dipped his head. "There is no question. You are doom-driven. Kogaan Akatosh. The very bones of the earth are at your disposal."
He gestured with one wing, and Cry blinked when she realized that, in the rising dawn, she could see what appeared to be almost a tear in the empty space before her. It glowed with a golden light.
"Go then," Paarthurnax invited. "Fulfill your destiny. Take the Scroll to the Time-Wound. Do not delay. Alduin will be coming. He cannot miss the signs."
"Wait, wait, what?" Cry demanded, startling herself back to the present. The Time-Wound had drawn her towards it, almost hypnotically. "If I do this, Alduin is going to come here? And I'll have to fight him? Right now?"
"You knew this was a possibility," Paarthurnax commented. "The very Elder Scroll that banished him will be unraveled to reveal the scene that he was banished during." He cocked his head to the side. "You meant to say you did not consider that it would draw him to the very place that he was banished from?"
Cry exhaled, shakily. "I just - I didn't think I'd have to fight him right away," she murmured. "What if I don't even learn what I need to in order to beat him from the Elder Scroll, and he comes anyway? I'll be killed."
"You will have me on your side, Dovahkiin," Paarthurnax soothed. "You will be fine. This is your destiny."
Cry closed her eyes for a moment. He was right, she knew. This was what she was meant to do, and whatever happened next was part of it.
"All right," she said, and she raised the Elder Scroll to the Time-Wound.
The words written on the Scroll were not Common. She knew, inherently, that they were actually Dovahzul, and she was surprised to find that she could read them. They glowed, the light from the Time-Wound shining through the thick parchment of the Scroll. Cry had to lift one hand to shield her eyes, which forced her to let go of the Scroll. It dropped to her side, and when it did, she realized that she was in a different time, but the same place.
It was a battle. That much she could tell. There were two Nords within her line of sight, both attacking a dragon that was crouched in front of them, snapping. Cry tried to turn her head to see more of the scene, but was unable to, could only watch what was happening directly in front of her.
The two Nords killed the dragon, and met in front of the carcass. It was the first time Cry had seen a dragon die and not immediately eviscerate into only bone. It was kind of alarming.
"Gormlaith!" the male Nord shouted. "We're running out of time! The battle -"
He was cut off as another dragon landed nearby, and started to speak to them. The roar of the battle made it difficult for Cry to understand what it was saying. Still, it must have been a challenge, for the two Nords turned towards it, weapons raised.
"For Skyrim!" the male exclaimed.
Cry was impressed with how well the two Nords fought together. She wondered how long they'd been doing so, and was faintly reminded of herself and Vilkas, which brought a small smile to her face, but it was wiped away as soon as the female Nord, Gormlaith, stick her blade straight into the dragon's mouth, up through its snout. She pulled it free, shouting, "Know that Gormlaith sent you down to your death!"
Cry was amazed. This Nord was who she wanted to be when she grew up.
She backed away from the dead dragon, grinning widely at her companion. "Hakon! A glorious day, is it not?"
"Have you no thought beyond the blooding of your blade?" Hakon demanded.
"What else is there?" Gormlaith exclaimed.
Hakon shook his head. "The battle below goes ill. If Alduin does not rise to our challenge, I fear all may be lost."
Gormlaith waved her hand dismissively. "You worry too much, brother. Victory will be ours."
Hakon looked to the sky, holding a hand against his brow to shield his eyes from the sun. "Why does Alduin hang back?" he asked, mostly to himself. "We've staked everything on this plan of yours, old man."
A third figure, dressed in a rob, came into Cry's field of vision. "He will come," he assured the other two. "He cannot ignore our defiance. And why should he fear us, even now?"
"We've bloodied him well," Gormlaith said, gleefully. Four of his kin have fallen to my blade alone this day."
"But none have yet stood against Alduin himself. Galthor, Sorri, Birkir…" The old man shook his head.
"They did not have Dragonrend," Gormlaith said, and Cry immediately started to pay more attention. "Once we bring him down, I promise I will have his head!"
"You do not understand," the old man said. "Alduin cannot be slain like a lesser dragon. He is beyond our strength. Which is why I brought the Elder Scroll."
Hakon immediately took a few steps backwards, away from him. "Felldir, we agreed not to use it!" he said.
"I never agreed," Felldir said, calmly. "And if you are right, I will not need it."
"No," Hakon said with a shake of his head. "We will deal with Alduin ourselves, here and now."
"We shall see soon enough," Gormlaith said, and she pointed. "Alduin approaches."
"So be it," Hakon said, resolved, and the three of them formed a semi-circle, in front of where a large black dragon that Cry was very familiar with by this point was landing.
"Meyye!" Alduin said. "Tahrodiis aanne! Him hinde pah liiv! Zu'u hin daan!"
"Let those that watch from Sovngarde envy us this day!" Gormlaith cheered, as Alduin once more took to the sky.
Cry watched in fascination as the three Nords drew closer together, and felt her chest grow warm with the heat of rage and the love of battle as they Shouted, as one: "Joor… Zah Frul!"
Joor Zah Frul, Cry repeated to herself, feeling the anger, the hatred, that fueled the Shout in her very core as she memorized the words, memorized their meanings. The three Nords had invented a Shout that made dragons mortal. Temporarily, but mortal nonetheless.
He's so done, she thought, a grin growing on her face.
It was true, too, for Alduin was immediately forced to land, as though something was bounding him to the ground. He roared, angrily, his head thrashing.
"Nivahriin joorre!" he cried. "What have you done? What twisted Words have you created? Tahrodiis Paarthurnax! My teeth to his neck!" He glowered at the three Nords, his red eyes glowing. "But first… dir ko maar. You will die in terror, knowing your final fate… to feed my power when I come for you in Sovngarde!"
"If I die today, it will not be in terror," Gormlaith informed him. "You feel fear for the first time, worm. I see it in your eyes."
Felldir Shouted something familiar while Gormlaith charged straight for Alduin, who bared his teeth. "Skyrim will be free!" she cried.
Cry watched, terrified and amazed, as the three Nords fought with Alduin. Hakon moved around to the dragon's side to attack from there, while Felldir continued to throw Shouts from where he stood, and Gormlaith fought teeth-to-teeth. Unfortunately, that put her in the most precarious position, and Cry was not surprised when Alduin snatched his jaws around her, crushing her ribcage, and everything it protected, inward, before tossing her aside, dead.
Felldir watched his companion die, and Cry saw his resolve set in. She watched as he pulled out a familiar shape from his robes, and held it up.
"Hold, Alduin on the Wing!" he shouted. "Sister Hawk, grant us your sacred breath to make this contract heard! Begone, World-Eater! By words with older bones than your own we break your perch on this age and send you out! You are banished! Alduin, we shout you out from all our endings unto the last!"
The Elder Scroll began to grow with bright light, and Alduin turned away from fighting with Hakon to blink into it.
"Fael Kell…?" The dragon's eyes narrowed as he realized what was happening, as the light ensnared him further. "Niikriinne…"
"You are banished!" Felldir repeated, his voice trembling with the power he held.
Cry had to close her eyes as the light grew to be too blinding. When she opened them again, Alduin was gone.
"It worked." She looked at Hakon, who was cradling his side, and limping towards Felldir. "You did it."
"Yes, the World-Eater is gone," Felldir replied, his voice low. "May the spirits have mercy on our souls."
Wind rushed past Cry's ears, then, and she experienced a foul jerking motion as she was tugged forward in time once more. She stumbled, and landed on her knees in the snow, bracing her hands against the ground. She coughed as human sensations returned to her, and she lifted her head, feeling very weak, all of a sudden.
Paarthurnax was where he had been atop the Word Wall. He was not looking at her, however, and when Cry followed his line of sight, her stomach twisted, and she was certain she was going to vomit.
Alduin hovered near the summit, wings flapping, creating a dramatic background sound to the whole affair. It was loud enough to be heard over the wind.
"Bahloki nahkip sillesejoor," he began, and Cry scowled. "My belly is full of the souls of your fellow mortals, Dovahkiin. Die now and await your fate in Sovngarde!"
He gained altitude, and Paarthurnax took to the air as well, calling down to her, "Dovahkiin! Use Dragonrend, if you know it!"
Oh, she knew it, and right about now, she was feeling the right amount of rage she thought she needed to properly power it, too. She focused on the newest Shout in her repetoire, feeling it burn harshly in her chest, and she directed it towards the black dragon that was circling the peak: "Joor… Zah Frul!"
The light blue energy that emerged with the Shout enveloped Alduin. The dragon roared, angrily, and twisted in the air as he was forced to land on the mountain. From above, Paarthurnax rained fire, while Cry sprinted towards Alduin, scraping her greatsword along the side of his snout. Alduin jerked his head, and whipped around to face her, readying a Shout of his own. Cry barely had time to dodge out of the way of a sheet of flames.
"You may have picked up the weapons of my ancient foe, but you are not their equal!" Alduin taunted her, and then he took to the sky again as the effects of Dragonrend waned.
"Dovahkiin, vosaraan!" Paarthurnax called. "You must use Dragonrend before Alduin consumes you!"
"He's not eating me today," Cry decided, resolve setting in. She built up the power for another go at Dragonrend, and watched as Alduin had to land, again, clearly growing frustrated. Without hesitating, she raced up to where he was, dodging gnashing teeth and fire Shouts, and climbing up onto his back. She then thrust her greatsword down between his wings.
Alduin howled, and shook her off. Cry went flying, crashing into the Word Wall and landing in the snow with a cry of pain as something in her shoulder popped. She forced herself upright using her uninjured arm, and saw that Alduin was gazing at her, sides heaving.
"Meyz mul, Dovahkiin," he said, darkly. "You have become strong. But I am Al-du-in, firstborn of Akatosh! Mulaagi zok lot! I cannot be slain here, by you or anyone else! You cannot prevail against me. I will outlast you, mortal!"
Cry tried to force herself into a standing position, but found that she could not. In fact, her other arm gave out, and she collapsed once more into the snow as Alduin took the sky again. The last thing she saw was the large black dragon fading into the distance, before she let the darkness pain brought with it drown her.
She awoke sometime later, thirsty, her shoulder aching. It took her only a few seconds to realize where she was, and she forced herself into a sitting position.
"No, Dragonborn," a familiar voice said, and then Arngeir was standing in front of her, pressing lightly against one of her shoulders. "Lay back. You are still recovering."
"Alduin escaped," Cry managed, despite how dry her throat was. "I need -"
"Hush," Arngeir said, sternly, holding a cup to her lips. Cry drank down the water, greedily, and leaned back against the wall behind her. She was laying in the cot in the spare room that she'd slept in.
"I need to find out where he went," she said, completing her original thought.
Arngeir had walked away, and was fiddling with the healing supplies that were laid out on the table in the corner. "The old tales say that he is able to travel into Sovngarde to devour the souls of the dead, but they do not say how he does this."
Cry closed her eyes for a moment as she absorbed this information. After a moment, a bright light flickered on inside her head, the solution to this problem. Vilkas would be proud of how quickly she came up with it.
She opened her eyes again, and looked at Arngeir. "One of his dragon allies could tell us."
Arngeir straightened up and looked at her, his eyes bright. "Yes, of course!" he said. "But how to force a dragon to talk to you…?" He trailed off, considering, and then he sighed a little, his shoulders falling. "There is one possibility, but, no, the Jarl would never agree."
"You mean Dragonsreach," Cry said, thoughtfully, and Arngeir nodded. "It was constructed, originally, to hold a dragon captive." She considered this for a moment, and then nodded. "I could convince him. We're acquainted."
She made to stand, but gasped inward sharply as she tried to rotate her right shoulder, and was met with pain in response. Angeir sighed a little, in a Honestly, how can someone be so idiotic sort of way.
"Dragonborn, you dislocated your shoulder," he told her. "You should avoid using it for at least two days."
"Two days?" Cry snorted, and stood up completely, without using her right arm. "Absolutely not. There's too much to do, too many dragons to stop.
"Dragonborn -"
"Thanks for the help, Arngeir," Cry said, moving past him out of the spare room and down the hall to the main room of High Hrothgar. Arngeir did not follow her, thankfully, leaving Cry to push her way outside in peace.
The sun was at its zenith. She had no idea how much time had passed since she'd fainted. She should have asked, but it was too late for that now. She needed to get down the mountain, and -
Well. She needed to go to Sky Haven Temple, to tell Esbern and Delphine what was going on. But she also needed to stop in Whiterun, to reassure Vilkas that she was alive.
Shit. She hadn't been kidding; there was too much to do.
She made her way down the mountain, doing her best not to think too hard about any one thing. Almost as soon as she reached the bottom, a courier raced up to her.
"Cry Silverworthy?" he prompted, and she nodded. He produced a small piece of parchment, and offered it to her. It was sealed with the Blades' stamp.
"Thank you," she said, her stomach twisting uncomfortably. There could be any number of things written in the letter, but she had a feeling she knew what it was.
She unsnapped the seal, and unfolded the letter. The handwriting was Delphine's.
Dragonborn,
We have heard about your adventures with the Greybeards, and their leader. I imagine that they did not tell you this, but Paarthurnax served as Aluduin's right-hand, during the time of his cult, and the Dragon War. He committed many atrocities, and deserves to be punished for them.
We must talk about these punishments. Soon. Come to Sky Haven Temple as soon as you receive this.
Cry sighed, and folded the parchment over again. She supposed she knew where she was going first.