After the night of respite, Bishop and Aeyrin set out to ascent the grueling peak of the Throat of the World once more.
Lynly pinned another supply delivery on them the second they told her that they were heading up the mountain. The passes were, apparently, snowed under again, even though, according to Bishop, it was 'spring'. It certainly didn't feel like spring, but apparently it was supposed to be surprising to have so much snow in the passes at this time of year, which didn't really bode well for their own pleasant journey.
But at least now they knew what they were in for. And they wouldn't get caught off guard by another dragon roaming around the peak.
The ascent took a lot longer than the last time, with the knee-deep snow and the mild blizzard descending on them half-way through. But at least they didn't get attacked by anything this time and by the afternoon, they were already pushing open the large metal door of High Hrothgar, exhausted and freezing. Well… Aeyrin was freezing. Bishop was maybe slightly chilly, if anything.
Einarth inclined his head to them in greeting as he approached the entrance door when the noise interrupted his meditation.
"Hello again. Could you take me to Arngeir?" Aeyrin asked immediately while she brushed off the snow from her white fur cloak. It was pointless to talk to the other Greybeards anyway, according to Arngeir. None of them could speak without Shouting at least a little anymore. It was a rather strange prospect. She worried if this would happen to her if she overused the Shouts. Maybe that was why Arngeir was so adamant about her practicing restraint.
Einarth led the three visitors through the monastery to the courtyard, back outside into the cold, much to Aeyrin's dismay. Karnwyr, however, brightened up considerably when he realized that he did not have to spend time cooped up in the boring monastery and he could instead run in the snow.
The old man was sitting there, right in the middle of the courtyard, deep in the snow. How was he not freezing to death?
Nords…
"Dovahkiin. You are back," Arngeir nodded at her arrival and he rose up to his feet, brushing off the snow from his husky grey robes.
"Yes. I came to ask you about something, Arngeir," Aeyrin began, but she pointedly covered herself with her cloak. She was still not exactly thawed out from their journey and she kind of hoped that the old man would invite her back inside for their discussion, but he did no such thing. When he only looked at her expectantly, she continued with a sigh. She gave him a level look, wary and uncertain whether he already had this information. "I came to ask about Alduin."
Both Arngeir and Einarth remained quiet and there was palpable shock in their eyes. She noticed another Greybeard approaching them tentatively from across the yard and his expression no less surprised. Did he hear her from all the way over there?
"Alduin?" Arngeir narrowed his eyes at her.
"Yes. Alduin. The firstborn of Akatosh. The World-Eater. Don't tell me that you haven't heard of him. If not… well… you probably will soon enough, since he's back and he's resurrecting all his dead friends," she folded her arms across her chest. She felt a little bit peeved at them for not even mentioning the dragon's name before. Even if they didn't know about his return, didn't they at least know of his importance in the Dragon War? Was none of that worth mentioning?
"Then… it has come to pass… the World-Eater wakes," Arngeir lowered his head somewhat mournfully as the other two Greybeards clasped their hands together, looking towards the snow on the ground as well.
"So… you knew about all this? The… prophecy?" she scowled at him deeply.
"We know the prophecy, Dragonborn. We did not know why the dragons come back to life. We did not know that Alduin is back. But we knew that it was a possibility," Arngeir nodded somberly at her.
"Why wouldn't you tell me?! If you had even only a theory on why all this was happening, why keep it from me?!" Aeyrin was almost yelling now. Although she wasn't sure if she would have wanted him to tell her before. In fact, she kind of wished that she was still in the dark, blissfully unaware of just how harrowing her purpose here was.
"Why speak of the end of times when it is not a certainty? And why speak of the end of times when there is nothing to do to stop it? The prophecy is coming to pass, and all we can do now is prepare to transcend into a new world, whether it be our doom or our salvation," yet again, Arngeir shook his head mournfully. That was rather disheartening. Did he really think that the world was doomed?
"So you're just gonna sit here and wait for death?" Bishop piped up, staring at the man incredulously from a short distance away.
"There is nothing else to do. We can only hope that the horrors of the Dragon War will not come to pass again. But whatever our fate, Kyne will persevere and the world will be born anew," Arngeir almost sounded wistful as he said that.
"W-well… I for one like this world," Aeyrin cringed at his words. This defeatist attitude was somewhat throwing her off. But who better to help her locate the Shout that she needed? The Greybeards might still have information for her that they didn't even think relevant. "There's supposed to be something that was used to defeat Alduin before. Why else would he disappear like that? It should be a Shout. Do you have any idea on where to find it or…?"
The old man blinked at her in surprise, a bit caught off guard himself, before his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "A Shout? Why would you think so? Who have you been talking to?"
She froze. Delphine had asked her not to mention their cooperation to the Greybeards, but she never said why. Only that they had different philosophies. Well… that was kind of obvious. Delphine was pretty adamant about Aeyrin exploring and using her powers while the Greybeards preached restraint. And they weren't exactly tolerant of much disobedience, as Aeyrin found out a long time ago. But the old men were hardly aggressive. What was Delphine worried about?
"It… was depicted on this… wall," she answered uncertainly.
"A wall inside an ancient Akaviri temple perhaps?" Arngeir peered at her somewhat threateningly. "You have been talking to the Blades! Of course… yet again they meddle in matters that they barely understand. Their reckless arrogance knows no bounds. They have always sought to turn the Dragonborn from the path of wisdom." Arngeir scowled deeply at her. He looked like he was chastising a child.
"What does it matter? Alduin needs to be defeated! I need all the help and information I can get!" she retorted with her arms still across her chest determinedly.
"Any means necessary, is it? That is precisely the approach which would have the world burn under our feet. And now you come here, asking for an unnatural Shout created from hatred and despair," the man shook his head disapprovingly.
"So you know it?!" Aeyrin's eyes went wide at him. Could it really be that simple? She could surely convince Arngeir to share the Words!
"No. The knowledge of that Shout was lost in the time before history began. Perhaps only its creators ever knew it. But I am not the one to speak of it to you," he shook his head somberly.
Well… so much for that.
Nothing could ever be easy. But Esbern did mention that even if he didn't uncover the Shout in lore or get its location from deciphering Alduin's Wall, there was a way to learn it. Perhaps it was simply a way that Arngeir didn't consider. Or didn't want to consider.
"But… you know about it. Why do you think that it's so 'unnatural'?"
"The Shout has not been passed onto mankind by the dragons like the others. It was created by men. By those who had lived under the unimaginable cruelty of Alduin's Dragon Cult. Their whole lives were consumed with hatred for dragons, and they poured all their anger and hatred into this Shout. When you learn a Shout, when you use it, you take it into your very being. In a sense, you become the Shout. In order to learn and use this Shout, you will be taking this evil into yourself," he explained slowly as the other two Greybeards nodded at her somberly.
It would explain much. It explained why the dragons were filled with the 'essences' of the Shouts that they used, why their souls mirrored the powers. At least it made some sense to her. And it confirmed Esbern's explanations on the sensations that she felt upon absorption.
"I… understand… but… I need to at least consider this possibility. I need to know more about this Shout. What harm would it do, if it would help stop him? Do you not know anything that could give me more information?" she asked him desperately.
The present Greybeards shared an uncertain look before they finally nodded at each other in accord.
"You should speak to our leader. Paarthurnax. He resides at the top of the mountain in seclusion. He speaks to us very seldom and only those strong in the Voice can find the path to him," Arngeir smiled at her weakly.
There was another Greybeard? At the top of the mountain? What was he doing there? Besides freezing…
And why would only those who knew Thu'um be able to see him?
"It is a great honor to meet him. I hope that you will give him the proper respect," Arngeir frowned a bit with a hint of concern on his face. "The path to the top is protected by fierce winds and blizzards, but there is a way to make the weather submit to you with a powerful enough Shout. We will teach you, but only if you promise to keep the Way of the Voice in your mind when you meet Paarthurnax," Arngeir and the remaining Graybeards led her towards the path at the edge of the courtyard which was twisting and weaving upwards while Bishop followed close behind with Karnwyr at his heel. He looked up towards the peak, shrouded in fog. There was no way of telling how far up it went.
"I promise, Arngeir," Aeyrin smiled at the man reassuringly. She could certainly practice his precious 'restraint' if it sated her curiosity about this secretive leader of the Greybeards.
Einarth bent down towards the snow below and began drawing several draconic runes into it before he straightened up again, Shouting at the runes under his feet.
"LOK VAH KOOR!"
The snow wasn't disturbed in the slightest, but it started to glow with a familiar light. The drumming was instant and intense and Aeyrin's vision darkened. The runes were the only thing in front of her eyes.
LOK VAH KOOR
She blinked rapidly to readjust her eyes to the blinding snow. It was so much worse than when it happened in dark dungeons, but she managed to see everything normally again soon enough.
She peered up the trail. The wind was visible even from here, blowing fresh powdery snow around violently.
She wondered how serious Arngeir was about the whole 'bending weather' thing.
Hopefully serious enough that it would help their ascent.
…
"Shit! Do it!"
Bishop yelled at Aeyrin when he grabbed her around the waist as she stumbled with the strong wind picking up again.
The Shout actually did affect the weather around them. It parted the clouds, cleared the skies and left them in a blissful peace.
But it was very short-lived. The winds circled the mountain constantly and it felt like whenever she cleared the skies, another maelstrom came at great speed only minutes later. They may have made it through the blizzards, but the winds threatened to throw them off the edges of the mountain constantly, leaving them to plummet to their deaths.
The Shouts were the safer option, but with how quickly the weather changed again, it was hardly ideal.
"LOK VAH KOOR!"
The skies cleared again, making them both sigh out in relief. The winds always came so unexpectedly and they were really hard to withstand. At least they had the good sense to order Karnwyr to stay back at the courtyard. He would not have been so ecstatic about the snow in these weather conditions.
At least they could almost see the summit now. It wasn't as far as they had originally feared.
"So… you really think that there's an old guy up there? Just… sitting on a mountain? Alone? What does he eat? Where does he sleep? What the fuck does he do?" Bishop narrowed his eyes. It sounded so unimaginable. He was used to being still, quiet and alone on hunts, away from anyone and anything, but being like that all the time seemed too much even for him. The Greybeards had said that the man rarely spoke to them. What would someone do all those days?
"I can't even imagine. I guess he meditates? But… I don't know. I've never even seen a priest meditate longer than an hour a day. Maybe he has books. Maybe there's a house up there!" she gasped in premature astonishment. How amazing would that be? A house at the summit of the Throat of the World. It would have to be strong enough to withstand all the elements. But how would the hermit monk get any supplies there? The Greybeards themselves received them sparsely.
"And how doesn't he freeze?!" she shivered again, wrapping herself tighter into the cloak.
Bishop only threw her a smug grin, but she wasn't convinced.
"Are you seriously telling me that you're not even a little cold? Not even a tiny bit?" she looked at him skeptically. He did have his cloak on. That meant that he wasn't exactly warm. But she's never even seen him shiver once.
"Eh… not really. It's a little chilly, I guess. I've been cold before though. Once, I fell into the Sea of Ghosts down by the Winterhold ice fields. That was a fucking nightmare," he shuddered just thinking about it. It took him forever to dry and unfreeze.
"Gods, I'd be dead already," she shook her head incredulously. Traveling through Winterhold was bad enough. Falling into the water there sounded horrific.
The wind was picking up again steadily and she Shouted once more to prevent it from throwing them around.
It was honestly starting to get a bit uncomfortable. Maybe because she was focusing on the 'aftertaste' of the Shouts more now, when she knew how it affected the dragons' bodies. It felt like a direct sunbeam shot through her throat every time she Shouted. She was starting to feel hoarse.
At least they were almost there.
They waded through the snow with effort as the day's trials started to catch up with them. Travelling usually wasn't the most difficult part of their journeys, but this mountain rivaled any dangerous beast.
Just as they were approaching the summit, Aeyrin heard it.
The drumming.
Was there a Wall here? Who in Oblivion would build a Wall here?!
But that hardly mattered. She needed to hurry to make it through the snowbanks before her senses dulled too much.
She started to run. If one could call that a run. She raised her knees high, burrowing into the snow with each step. Her progress was painfully slow as the drumming steadily worsened and her vision began darkening gradually. But she had to make it up there
"What are you doing?" she heard Bishop's voice call out to her as if from a distance. She wasn't sure if he was actually far away or if his voice was just drowned out by the incessant noise.
She finally saw the familiar lights. But they were so far away.
She desperately waded forth with her vision pitch-black, save for the lights in the distance, and her ears buzzing and aching from the intense drumming.
"WULD!"
She managed to let out the Shout, until she finally found herself facing the runes.
TOOR
Everything was slowly returning to normal – her vision was clearing, revealing the grey Wall in front of her, and the drumming was subsiding, steadily replaced by… a booming voice.
"Drem. Patience, Joor. There are formalities that must be observed, at the first meeting of two of the Dov."
Aeyrin turned around abruptly to locate the source.
There was a dragon perched atop one of the large rocks. A very large one. It was light grey with a mesmerizing swirl of purple and pink colors on the membranes of its wings. Bishop stood below it with his bow drawn, aimed at the beast and his eyes narrowed. But he didn't shoot. They only stared at each other. Bishop's face was uncertain and suspicious while the dragon's seemed surprisingly calm and measured. There was no hint of the usual bloodlust and malice.
Bishop finally noticed Aeyrin regain herself. He didn't drop his readied bow for a second, but he called out to her instantly.
"Ladyship?! That thing's talking to me!" his voice sounded unnerved. This dragon really seemed different. For one, it wasn't attacking.
"Dovahkiin. Greetings. I am Paarthurnax. The Joor identified you as Dov," the dragon heaved, taking flight, before it landed on the peak, right in front of her and studied her curiously.
Paarthurnax? This was the leader of the Greybeards?
A dragon?!
Aeyrin instinctively took a step back, watching the beast warily. Bishop was still aiming his bow at the creature, but out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that his hands were getting shaky and tired.
Now it was a little bit clearer why Arngeir had insisted so much on her 'remembering the Way of the Voice'. He didn't want her to instantly attack this dragon, since… apparently it was the order's leader for some reason. Were they a dragon cult?
"At the meeting of two Dov, by long tradition, the elder speaks first. Hear my Thu'um! Feel it in your bones! Match it, if you are truly Dovahkiin!" its voice boomed so much, she felt like the mountain shook beneath her.
Wait… what did it just say?
The dragon opened its maw suddenly, right in front of her. She could see the fire forming back at its throat. Was it attacking? What in Oblivion?!
"FEIM!"
The fire passed through her harmlessly, melting the snow around her, and she saw Bishop's arm release the arrow instantly with a hateful glare aimed at Paarthurnax.
The arrow hit the dragon in its foot. Was Bishop aiming for that? Maybe he was uncertain whether he should attack it outright. Paarthurnax didn't seem fazed at all though and it left the arrow lodged under its… his scales, watching Aeyrin with amused anticipation.
"Match my Thu'um with yours, Dovahkiin!" his voice boomed again.
Well… he asked for it.
"YOL TOOR!"
The fire was much more widespread and powerful than before with the second Word of the Shout that she had just learned. She felt her throat burn more intensely. Funny, she didn't even know that the Word was another one of the fiery ones. It just left her throat automatically.
The flames enveloped the dragon immediately, gliding along his scales and melting the snow.
But it did not do any damage.
Paarthurnax even seemed to have a pleased smile on his maw.
"The dragon blood runs strong in you, Dovahkiin," he nodded at her with a pleased tone to his voice, before he moved the foot with Bishop's arrow lodged in it towards her. "If you would."
She looked at him uncertainly, but she moved to yank the arrow out of him a second later. Hopefully that wasn't a mistake on her part, but that one arrow would hardly stop the beast if he decided to attack.
Paarthurnax only threw Bishop another amused look, making him scowl deeply again.
"If you attack her again, the next one's gonna be in your eye!" he growled at the dragon, but he sheathed his bow nonetheless. The whole situation was weird. They've met dragons that talked before, but none of them used Cyrodilic and none of them were… not actively hostile.
"Drem, Joor," he let out a deep breath at Bishop. "What brings you to my Strunmah… my mountain?" Paarthurnax turned his maw back to Aeyrin, observing her curiously.
"You… you're a dragon…" Aeyrin stammered at Paarthurnax. She still couldn't believe all this. The Greybeards called him their 'leader'. How did that work?
"Geh. My Zeymah, my brethren, wake. You are the one able to undo them. A Dov. They are drawn to hunt you and battle you. But not me, Dovahkiin. I mean no harm. Not even to intruders upon my Strunmah," the creature gave Aeyrin a half-amused and half-curious look. Well… he didn't technically attack them yet, not like the other dragons usually did. And the Greybeards trusted him, obviously. Unless they really wanted the world to end and sent her up to their 'leader' to be killed. But nothing so far seemed to suggest that. This dragon really seemed different. Calmer. Even friendlier.
"The Greybeards sent me… Alduin is back," she quickly explained her presence and peered at the dragon uncertainly. He must have known about Alduin. He must have been resurrected by him too. But… why would the Greybeards make him their leader so fast? Was this resurrection business going on for longer than it seemed?
"Geh. Alduin and Dovahkiin return together," he nodded knowingly. If he knew that, did the Greybeards know too? Why didn't they just tell her?!
"Together? What do you mean by that? When did he return? When did he… bring you back?" Aeyrin furrowed her brows. Maybe this has been going on for years now, only in some secret remote locations. Maybe only now the dragons began to attack when their numbers were already great enough. If they 'returned together', did that mean that Alduin has been here since her birth?
"Folaas, Dovahkiin. Alduin brings back his loyal Zeymah to subject the Joorre once more. I do not count among them. I did not earn life by him. I have not sworn my Midrot, my loyalty, to Alduin," Paarthurnax shook his head at her, strangely somberly. He almost seemed regretful about that. But it was comforting to know that he had no debt of gratitude towards Alduin for his resurrection. And apparently he had no concerns about the Dragonborn at his feet killing him. It was unsettling, in a way, to meet a dragon this calm.
Wait… did he say that he wasn't resurrected?!
"S-so… you weren't raised by Alduin? You weren't dead? You've been here ever since…" Aeyrin gaped at Paarthurnax. It sounded so unimaginable. And kind of boring. But dragons probably perceived time differently… being essentially immortal.
"Geh. I was not slayed in the war. I have resided here, following the Way of the Voice, against the nature of the Dov," he nodded at her. She could have sworn that there was a hint of pride in his booming voice. So he was following the Way of the Voice. He was here before the Greybeards. He was the one that taught them.
"So you don't fly down and kill shit? You don't want to 'subject Joor' or whatever? Why?" suddenly Bishop piped up, as if he only now riled himself up from the shock, and he scoffed at the dragon disbelievingly. As if that thing never needed to sate its dragon-y urges! And what did it eat anyway? Did dragons even eat people? Did they even eat at all?
"Nid, Joor. The Fen, the will, needs to be honed to follow the Way of the Voice. My Zeymah, my brethren, many do not try, do not strive," Paarthurnax shook his head somberly at him. "Tiid, time, it changes Joorre and it changes Dov. I have had much of it to myself. The Way of the Voice has been the answer. It has been the change. And then, the Joorre came and they learned. My Zeymah, they would have learned too, if they remained. But now they are back, with their Vahkrut, their memory, fresh of the war. They need time to understand, but Joorre do not have time."
Bishop scowled at Paarthurnax's answer, uncertain whether the beast was to be believed. At least it… he… didn't attack them. Well… not really. But Bishop got really pissed at his fucking 'greeting between Dov'! What kind of shit was that? He could fucking talk! How about just saying hello?! He should be grateful that Bishop aimed only at his foot.
"So you thought dragon Shouts to the Greybeards?" Aeyrin asked the dragon again. "And you taught them the Way of the Voice. All that… restraint stuff?" Suddenly it all sounded much more reasonable and understandable why the Greybeards were so insistent on this philosophy. For Paarthurnax, restraint didn't mean shying away from powers he didn't understand. For him it was overcoming his very nature. He showed the humans power and taught them to hold it at bay. Perhaps to garner understanding between the dragons and men. That was quite admirable. Although the Greybeards still should learn to adapt their teachings to confused Dragonborn who only needed to understand their powers, instead of repressing them.
"Geh. Mir Do Hadrim. A different Laas, life, from Alduin's Rel, domination," Paarthurnax nodded at her. She had never before even considered that a dragon would want to do anything but kill people. Or that their ultimate goal would be anything other than the enslavement of mankind again. But there were obviously those that thought differently. Perhaps it really was time and age. But were there others who survived the Dragon War? Were there others who shared Paarthurnax's views? It wasn't impossible, right?
This was all making Aeyrin feel strangely optimistic. It used to be uncomfortable to think about dragons as anything but mindless monsters, but now it was actually comforting. Maybe some of them could even help her against Alduin! Hopefully Paarthurnax would.
And there was no better time to find out.
"I… found out that there is a… Shout. One that was used before to defeat him. But the Greybeards don't know it," she probed Paarthurnax carefully on the subject. The Greybeards certainly seemed opposed to her knowing this Shout, so maybe he would be too. Then again, they had only sent her to the top of the mountain after she insisted on learning more about it. Perhaps Paarthurnax did know more and perhaps he didn't share the old men's concerns.
"Geh. I know of what you speak. Krosis. Sorrowfully, it cannot be known to me," the dragon shook his head at her mournfully.
Well… so much for that. But it wasn't as if she had expected him to know it, after what the Greybeards had implied about it being only man-made. But hopefully he would at least know something about it.
"Do you know how I could learn it?" she looked at him hopefully.
"Drem. All in good time. First, I have a question for you. Why do you want to learn this Thu'um?" Paarthurnax's eyes searched her curiously while the mesmerizing wings sheathed at his flanks.
"Why? I… well… to stop Alduin," she answered uncertainly. For some reason, she felt like he was… testing her. Probing her for answers.
"Yes. Alduin… Zeymah. The elder brother. Gifted, grasping and troublesome, as is so often the case with firstborn. But why? Why must you stop Alduin?" he continued his questions while his intense eyes continued piercing her. That was strange? Wasn't Paarthurnax against Alduin's rampage too? Was this really just some sort of test? Or a debate?
"Well… he's supposed to bring the end, right? I… want to stop that…" Aeyrin bit her lower lip uncertainly. She always thought that these questions had answers as clear as day, but something about the way he had asked made her feel uncertain.
"Pruzah. As good a reason as any. There are many who feel as you do, although 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?"
"I would prevent the death and destruction that Alduin brings. If this is how the world is to end, then what will be left for the new world to rise from?" she scowled at him. How could he make the end of the world sound so… noble?
"Kaan. The teachings say that the world must die to be born anew. Do you deny Kaan?" Paarthurnax tilted his head at her curiously.
'Kaan'. Aeyrin knew that word. It referred to Kyne… or Kynareth. She couldn't help but remember the old tree in Whiterun and the sapling that was now growing in its stead. The priestess, Danica, was not too happy with the old tree dying and being replaced. Was Aeyrin doing the same thing now? Clinging to the old while denying the new?
But… this was different. It had to be. The tree was already dead. This world wasn't. It wasn't the course of time that was going to bring the end. It was Alduin, defying nature and time. With untold suffering and destruction to boot. That didn't seem like something that Kynareth would advocate.
"This isn't Kynareth's will. This isn't just 'nature'. This isn't the cycle of renewal. It's a predator. If anything, isn't it 'natural' for us to defend ourselves, to try and stop it? Isn't survival instinct the 'natural' response? This world isn't dead. It doesn't need renewal. Now while it can still fight," Aeyrin scowled at him determinedly.
"Geh. An intriguing answer. 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?"
"I… didn't think about it… I didn't expect a dragon, to be honest. But… dragons like mountains, don't they?" she looked at him uncertainly. It sounded like such a childish answer.
"True. But few now remember that this was the very spot where Alduin was defeated by the ancient Tongues. Vahrukt Unslaad… perhaps none but me now remember how he was defeated."
"You remember? How he got defeated with the Shout?" Aeyrin's eyes beamed at him hopefully.
"Alduin was not truly defeated. If he was, you would not be here today, seeking to… defeat him. The Nords of those days used the Shout 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."
Her head was starting to spin. An Elder Scroll? She would need an ancient lost Shout and an Elder Scroll?! How would she even get one? And was it supposed to be a specific one? And what was it about sending Alduin adrift in time?! Did it mean… that they sent it to… now?!
"They… cast Alduin to our time?" she gasped at the dragon.
"Not intentionally. Some hoped he would be gone forever, forever lost. Meyye. I knew better. Tiid Bo Amativ. Time flows ever onward. One day he would surface. Which is why I have lived here. For thousands of mortal years, I have waited. I knew where he would emerge but not when," he nodded somberly. "Tiid. Time was shattered here. But this place, it still holds the battle in its memory. Perhaps if you peered into it, it would reveal the answer," he nodded his head again, strangely knowingly.
What did he mean by that? How could she see what happened there, Eras ago?
"H-how?" she stammered, trying to make sense of everything that he was saying desperately.
"Krosis, Dovahkiin. I do not hold answers. Tiid, time, is your answer. And the Kelle can be the key to time," he shook his head at her.
The 'Kelle'? The Elder Scroll… was a 'key' to 'time'? Lovely… if only she had one.
But it was still more vague than she would have liked. She knew that the Elder Scrolls have existed even before men and mer… or at least that was what she had heard of them. Maybe one of them had some records of the battle in it. But Paarthurnax obviously didn't know anything specific on which Scroll it could be or what exactly she was supposed to be looking for.
"Hadrim, the mind of Joorre is a curious thing," Paarthurnax almost looked like he smiled at her when he saw her conflicted expression. "Seek more. Mindok, know, more. Know the past and think on the times to come."
"I… I will try to find out more about the battle then… maybe the wall…" she murmured, more to herself than to the dragon.
"Geh. Krosis, I cannot give you the answers that you seek. But I will share those to other questions you have, Dovahkiin."
She had so many questions for him. Talking to an actual dragon could give her so many answers. But she suddenly couldn't think of any of them. She was all too preoccupied with pondering his words. It seemed like she just got an enormous amount of information all at once. It was not unlike the Blades' revelations back at the Old Hroldan Inn.
She noticed Bishop approach her, and the suspicious look he directed at Paarthurnax before now turned into one of confusion and worry. "What does the Shout do?" he asked. He stood some distance away from the dragon, as if he was still wary that he would attack.
"Binds. It takes from the power of the Dov. From the flight," Paarthurnax nodded somberly.
It 'took from the flight'? Did it prevent them from flying? That would be so helpful to her! But… it still didn't sound like a sure way to defeat Alduin. And there was still the major concern regarding their potential battle.
"If… if I… defeat him… somehow… how do I… When I absorb his soul… how can I be sure I'll… survive?" she asked finally with her voice quivering a little in fear of the answer. He would probably start talking about 'noble sacrifices', just like Delphine had before.
"Krosis. The final battle. The Dov fights to the last. A battle of Fen. Wills. The stronger Dov survives," he nodded at her somewhat determinedly.
That was not comforting!
"So… what happens to me if I lose?" she asked worriedly as her voice started trembling again.
"Dinok. Death. The Dov rises again, soul returned intact. Your power is given to the Dov."
Well… at least it wouldn't take over her body. But she was so sure that she could never be stronger than an eternal being!
But, then again, she had already absorbed so many of them.
Esbern seemed to think that she was more powerful with each soul absorbed. Even if it didn't feel like it, maybe he was right. Maybe, just maybe, it got a little easier because of it. Maybe that's why she could snap herself out of the pain twice before already. Maybe that was why the smaller colorful dragon didn't leave her unconscious this time.
The best thing to do now was to wait until they had learned more from Alduin's Wall. And if killing dragons along the way would only help, well… she would just have to suffer the pain.
She gave him a determined nod, acknowledging her resolve.
She already felt so powerless about so many things. This was not going to be another one! She had survived thus far. Against so many dragons, so many challenges. The powerful men may have manipulated and tricked her, but there was something she'd always been confident in until the dragons appeared – her battle prowess. And every evidence pointed to this being a completely irrational fear.
The wills of so many eternal beings yielded to hers. The next one would be no different. And the next one too! She just had to really believe it. To strengthen her… 'will'.
Bishop could only look at Aeyrin uncertainly. He was not sure if they had actually learned anything useful from this encounter, but she looked surprisingly determined.
Good. At least one of them was. Too bad that he didn't feel the same. The whole 'battle of wills' shit rattled him more than he'd like. He never really believed that she could actually die from the soul absorptions! She looked fine every time, if a little worse for the wear. They were draining, sure, but… as much as he always worried about her well-being throughout the process, he had never actually admitted to himself that she could die, every time she absorbed one of these souls.
Why did Aeyrin look so determined? Didn't the knowledge terrify her? Maybe she always knew though. It did feel to her like dying. She probably suspected that it was a possibility.
"I… thank you… Paarthurnax. I… I hope that I can find a way to learn the Shout soon and… figure out how to end this," she sighed and closed her eyes with a resolute nod.
"Geh, Dovahkiin. I hope in your Kron. Your victory. If you need my Onikaan, my wisdom, you are welcome here, on my Strumah." She could have sworn that Paarthurnax gave her a gentle sympathetic look, before he stood on his hind legs, heaving and taking flight again.
He perched back on the rock outcropping and curled into a rather enormous ball, closing his black eyes.
Well, that seemed to be their cue to leave.
Aeyrin was freezing anyway, and there didn't seem to be anything more to learn from him just now. He did not know the Shout, but at least he knew exactly what had happened to Alduin. At least that gave her some hint of what was… expected. As impossible as it seemed now.
She shared another look with Bishop before they set out back down towards the monastery again.
The second they left the summit, the winds started to howl around them again menacingly and the powerful gusts threatened to throw them over the edge once more.
Another grueling journey awaited them before they could rest in the heat of the monastery.
…
When the two of them arrived back at the monastery, the Greybeards were still awake, meditating.
Since they both felt too tired from their treks to continue down the mountain to Ivarstead, they had decided to spend the night at High Hrothgar. Besides, Aeyrin still had things to discuss with the old monks. She had asked Arngeir about Paarthurnax and about the battle at the top of the mountain some more, but there was not much more information to pry from him. The dragon had always been there and their order had been following Paarthurnax's teachings ever since they could remember, passing the knowledge onto any Dragonborn that was willing to listen. But neither the monks nor their leader knew any more relevant information about stopping Alduin. Paarthurnax was simply a… different dragon, it seemed. Perhaps there really were more like him out there – those that have not joined Alduin's forces in the Dragon War and instead lived in seclusion, trying to restrain their nature and their Voice.
The only thing that they knew now, was that Alduin had returned, because he was… transported to this Era by the ancient Dragonborn.
"So… how are you feeling about this, love?" Bishop asked uncertainly as they reclined on the small bed at the monastery.
"I don't know, better than I expected, honestly. The thing that he said about… the 'battle of the wills'… it sounded horrifying. But… I wouldn't have ever thought I had a stronger 'will' than any dragon! And yet…" she shrugged at him while she pressed herself closer to his warm body even more.
"Yeah… that's true, I guess. You have already dealt with a lot of them," he nodded thoughtfully.
"But an Elder Scroll? Do you really think that we would need that? I don't want to send Alduin to drift through time again! This would only send him to another Era and cause more havoc then!" she scoffed. It seemed like a cruel solution. She definitely had half-a-mind to go back in time and yell at those who had done this before. But if she could do that, she wouldn't need to wonder about how to get the lost Shout now.
"Who cares about that?! How about we fucking save our own hides before being concerned with anyone else's?!" Bishop shook his head at her. "A fucking Elder Scroll… weren't they lost or something?"
"Scattered across Tamriel. Yeah…" she sighed in defeat.
"Maybe we don't need it. Maybe there's some other trick to defeat him. We should probably wait for the old man to decipher the wall." He gently kissed the top of her head, changing tone instantly when he heard her forlorn sigh.
"You're right. It's not like we have any leads now anyway," Aeyrin gave him a weak smile and snuggled up to him under the blanket.
"The best thing to do now is to just forget about it until we learn more. From someone less vague, maybe. We can't deal with this shit now in any case." Bishop smirked, before he cleared his throat and a mocking smirk appeared on his face as he chuckled. "The path will reveal itself."
She snickered at him, shaking her head.
She would love nothing more than to stop thinking about it.
Perhaps she could take her mind off these clandestine thoughts when a new adventure stumbled into their path.