The folds of the fur have frozen solid in amidst of the melting and deep freeze shortly after, last night, slightly amazed by the fact that I was able to sleep through the cold. The taste of a clear but burning brew was all that's needed to clear my head, a good shot of whatever's in the waterskin from the kind carriage driver Bjorlam. Its' not mead, got a strong kick like the distillates from Hammerfell, Bjorlam says he made them with wheat. Got another shot to feel the way it burns inside the gums of my teeth, I threw a fist at the wooden beam in frustration.

Alvanna, revered bandit leader, fabled dragonborn, slayer of dragon and protector of Whiterun, bested by a common thief. Whatever reputation I built, will now be a complete joke if word about this were to get out. I cursed and spit on the pebbled ground. If the gods are good, and I ever catch that fickle, treacherous and beguiling raven, I will be sure to rob her of every septim of her worth. All that trekking in the snow, all that digging through the ancient grave, awarded me with nothing to show for the grey beards. Shor's bones, I was boiling with rage, and this ache in my pelvis has made me scramble to find the closest carriage to head for Whiterun. And luck have it, Bjorlam was just finishing a trip to Morthal.

On the comfort of the wool and fur ornated carriage, I had a chance to recover from the bloody business. The ride was a bit easier to tolerate since the main roads had less stones underneath the thin layer of compacted snow. Bless the furs that lined the carriages, that at least made it semi hospitable to be travelling. Anything is better than walking across the snowed forest and the frozen rivers with the wet boots all the way back. On top of that, you just never know where you are stepping on, a rock? The pavements? A small ditch or trap set by lazy hunters who never returned to check it? Who knows.

I curse whichever one of the divines that made it so for all the women to suffer every moon.

Surely it can't be a woman's deity, or I forget, do they have genders to start with? It seems to be all different wherever you go. And its not exactly like there were much likeliness to the stoned carvings by all those different masons.

Luckily, the bleeding had stopped right around when it usually does and I am slowly regaining my full strength. What festered, like a quiet flame in a heap of dried bushes, was my anger in my current predicament.

To think that I mourned for such a treacherous person is utterly embarrassing. Even now, my face burns with shame when I think back on how she was deceiving me from the start and I was so quick to underestimate her. It was not like there weren't moments that brought me suspicions, but blinded by the confidence in my own strength, I let my guard down. This kind of mistakes are usually lethal, best to never have it happen again. Next time I meet a tricky rogue like that, I will make sure to split their bones first before hearing what they have to say.

"Here we are, Riverwood." Bjorlam held the reins to stop the carriage, "all's good back there?"

I took one last drink and threw the waterskin back to him along with a pouch of septims, "Bjorlam, thank you for the ride and for the drink, I can't tell you how much I needed that."

"Don't mention it, dragonborn, happy to be of service, me and everyone I know would've burned to crisp by that Dragon if not for you." The golden haired nord scratched his cheek, spotted by some loose hair. "You seem to like my homebrew quite a lot, would you want some for the road ahead?"

"You haven't got a voice of the bards, but you sure know how to make a girl happy." I laughed and caught the full waterskin he tossed at me and secured it to my belt.

…

"Mara's Mercy, what had happened to you Alvanna?" Camila's light voice greeted me as she paced forward in her yellow tunic. She had just been dusting some merchandise outside of the shop she and her brother runs, 'Riverwood Traders'.

I gave Camila a big hug, her hair smelt of sun-warmed woods, "Had some troubles in Morthal, unfortunately. How are you Camila, how's business?"

This imperial girl is already dragging me in towards her shop, "It's been fine, but look at you! Morthal, that's ways away, let's get you some new clothes, Lucan just got a shipment from the capital."

Hearing Camila, I immediately looked down to check the clothes I had been wearing, I personally haven't found anything wrong about them, but I guess upon a closer look, they are a bit dirty and just a little more bloodier than usual. "How's your brother like these days?"

"The usual, overbearing and very annoying, still always feels like I needed to be protected, never mind that I am fully capable of handling myself. And he's still… pushing me to choose one from Sven or Faendal." She quickly glanced at me to see my reactions. She seemed a little disappointed when I didn't pick that up. She went behind the counter for a chest and found some new fur lined leather armors, "here, these are hardened leather and studded, probably won't stop an axe, but should bounce a few arrows away. You could probably use a bath too I wager?"

I nodded, and with some hesitation I said, "I also need some tidy cloth for… you know." I winked at Camila while quickly making sure Lucan's not eavesdropping.

"What?" She was confused, but only for a second, "ah, I see, I will have those ready when you are changing. I had mine this month not long ago, still have some herbs that helped with the pain and mood if you want."

"Oh don't worry about me, the pain is subsiding".

…

"Attic room, eh?" Delphine's eyes narrowed, and her broom hand subtly shaken once, wouldn't have caught it had I not been long suspicious of her. "Well... we don't have an attic room, but you can have the one on the left. Make yourself at home."

Resisting the urge to push my fist through her face and interrogate for the whereabouts of that treacherous nightingale. I did as she said, after all, it is what the note from Nox had told me. But in truth, not a moment longer I want to spend here in this Inn now that I know Delphine has something to do with the one who pulled one from under me.

"So, you're the Dragonborn I've been hearing so much about. I think you're looking for this." And in her hand was an unceremonious horn adorned by the weathering ages. Red handed, but she didn't have the embarrassment of a thief.

"You are just gonna hand that to me?" I was so furious that I started dry laughing. "Just like that? After that cunning little Warbler taken it from right under me? Speak, What is it you are after?"

"I do owe you some answers." Delphine cautiously looked around and gestured me to follow her to her room. "We need to talk, but not here, follow me."

The Inn is not busy at this time, still hours until mealtime. Sven hasn't settled in as the usual crowd for this establishment have yet find their way in. Orgnar is taking a break from wiping some of the bronzewares while tending to the smoke rack for the poultry.

Delphine slowly closed her rooms door behind her and walked straight to her closet. A subtle wooden hatch that looked completely normal right up until the moment she pulled it. I looked in awe as the closet opened and revealed a hidden staircase.

"Right this way, you never know who's watching."

Delphine was the first to descend and I followed quickly after. We entered into a room with racks for armor and weapons, well-kept but also have seen some action. There was a detailed map on the table, from the landmarks and river locations I can tell it's a map of Skyrim. There appears to be a few markings on them, and written in red circle 'Kynesgrove'. There were a few letters and books. I am not one to pry so I merely glanced them.

Confused and also upset by the ordeal, "You'd better have a good reason for dragging me here." I said pettily.

"It was the only way I could make sure it wasn't a Thalmor trap. I'm not your enemy. I already gave you the horn. I'm actually trying to help you. I just need you to hear me out." Delphine said dryly, it is clear that she isn't one to sweet talk, well good, I am not either.

Thalmor, I spit on the ground "I got nothing to do with those dogs. Lest Sovngarde spit in my name if I ever conspire with those long-eared filth"

"Good, there's no one that hates the thalmors more than I, they hunted down my brethren, destroyed my order. And I am forced to live in hiding."

"And You have gotten quite good at that too, an ordinary person would have no clue that you are not an Innkeep as you may appear to be."

"ah, but you did, didn't you, I noticed your suspicion the last time you were here, anyways, The Greybeards seem to think you're the Dragonborn. And I hope they're right." Delphine laid her hands down on the table while she is staring at the markings in red.

"Well the greybeards said so." I shrugged.

"I hope so. But you'll forgive me if I don't assume that something's true just because the Greybeards say so. I just handed you the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller. Does that make me Dragonborn, too?"

"What's with all of this cloak-and-dagger?" I raised an eyebrow.

"You can't be too careful, Thalmor spies are everywhere."

This conversation is already getting too tiring for my sake, "Well then, what do you want with me?" I crossed my arm, those who know me, knows it's a sign that I am no longer invested in a conversation.

"I'm part of a group that's been looking for you... well, someone like you, dragonborn, the ultimate dragon slayer, for a very long time. You're the only one that can kill a dragon permanently by devouring its soul. Can you do it? Can you devour a dragon's soul?"

"That's none of your business."

"You're wrong. It IS my business. You may be the only one that can stop these dragons. But you'll understand that soon enough." Delphine shook her head in frustration but she quickly gathered herself, "Dragons aren't just coming back, they're coming back to life. They weren't gone somewhere for all these years. They were dead, killed off centuries ago by my predecessors. Now something's happening to bring them back to life. And I need you to help me stop it."

"Dead dragons coming back to life? That's impossible" that's a bit out there, even for my likings, but on second thought, a lot has happened that doesn't make much sense.

"Ha. A few years ago, I said almost the same thing to a colleague of mine. Well, it turned out he was right and I was wrong…anyways, I've visited their ancient burial mounds and found them empty. And I've figured out where the next one will come back to life. We're going to go there, and you're going to kill that dragon. If we succeed, I'll tell you anything you want to know."

"That's a bit convenient isn't it? How did you find out?" I am still not trusting her just yet, "And where would the next one be?"

"You should know. You got the map for me. The dragonstone you got for Farengar, remember? The dragonstone was a map of ancient dragon burial sites. I've looked at which ones are now empty. The pattern is pretty clear." She traced a finger on the map, along the ridges representing southeast, near the rift, "It seems to be spreading from the southeast, down in the Jeralls near Riften. The one at Kynesgrove is next if the pattern holds."

"And we just go there, to kill the dragon when it springs back to life?"

"That's the idea, before it wreck havoc elsewhere, we can put an end to it, We should get moving. There's no time to waste."

"Well wait, one more thing."

"What is it" Delphine turns around in impatience.

But what met her eyes was my bare fist, pretty sure I broke something under there as I see her reel back in pain and her hands covering her nose. Streaks of red came down from her nostrils as she gaze at me in disbelief.

"That, is for hiring a thief to steal from me."

…

We travelled on a back of two fast horses to Kynsgrove for a day on the road. I am still willing to check out the place of this 'dragon revival' if its truly what she says it is. Delphine's nose stopped bleeding and I had enough self restraint to leave her a deviated form. I have already moved on from it, I am such a big person for not holding grudges.

Kynsgrove is a small settlement, not that much far from Windhelm, most men and women around here are hardy miners who would go days on in under the caves. All for the best malachite ore around here parts, its not much but it's still a good living.

We tied our horses to just outside of the braidwood Inn and got a short rest there for some rations and replenishment.

Delphine walked back from the Nordic innkeep, "townsfolk say that nothing is unusual around these parts yet. Looks like we beat the dragons to it."

I gorged my face with a piece of the old bread with boar bone soup, "do we – knos- where we are going -slurp- yet?" I gestured for the innkeep to bring some more ale but she had already gone outside to feed some hay to our horses.

"There was some stone landmarks just up the road, seems to fit what I have seen so far for burial grounds." The wooden spoon on the table trembled a bit, so was the still surface of the water in our cup, strange.

"well, lets get some rest and then we can – "

Before I can finish my sentence, the innkeep woman came crashing through the door and she stumbled in utter shock, "dra- dragon! Dragon attack! Dragon attacking Kynsgrove!"

I lept forward, spilled some of my soup, and I rushed to beside this woman in distraught, "A dragon is here? And its attacking Kynsgrove?"

"Well, I don't know. Not yet... it flew over the town and landed on the old dragon mound! I don't know what it's doing up there, but I'm not waiting around to find out! Come, let's hide in the cellars"

I shared a look with Delphine, "Guess that's our cue."

Delphine, whom has now donned a light armor before we left Riverwood, had her blade and bow readied, "indeed it is."

The innkeep looked at us as if she is staring at two mad woman, "you, you can't be serious, are you going to fight these things? We should leave it for the guards!"

"Rest assured, Iddra," Delphine nods to this woman, "we are here for the dragon and we are well prepared for it."

…

The miners all deserted their equipment and ran as far as they can for shelter, the direct opposite of where we were going. We made our way easily, no need for much directions anymore as we see it, a dark shadow looming over the woods, flapping its wings of terror.

And there I see it again, the ebony scales and its foul breath of oblivion. The red eyes shone bright in a eerie trace on the tapestry of the night. The horned creature that tore up Helgen, Alduin. It's eyes were not on me, rather he is focused on something else.

We made our strides closer, carefully not to alert the dragon of our presence as it hovers over a stoned monument from ages past.

"Sahloknir, ziil gro dovah ulse! Slen tiid vo! (Sahloknir, ever-bound dragon spirit! Let your flesh be restored!)" Thunderous shouts came from its mouth and the hefty snow on the trees gets shattered across, makes for a second snowfall.

As an upright beam that illuminated the night sky, the burial's sand slowly receded as a gargantuan skeleton emerges from the burial pit. Flesh and old magic weaved the life force of an once-was being back into their existence and it spoke "Alduin, thuri! Boaan tiid vokriiha suleyksejun kruziik? (Alduin, my overlord! Ye have flown time to revive our ancient realm?)"

"Geh, Sahloknir, kaali mir. (Yes Sahloknir, my champion of allegiance)"

Delphine whispered in my ear as this is taking place in front of us, "this is so much worse than what I can ever imagine"

While I completely agree with her, I didn't have the heart to reply, as the creature of the dark wings has turned its blood red gaze on me.

"Ful, losei Dovahkiin? Zu'u koraav nid nol dov do hi. (So, my false Dragonborn? I recognize no trace of Dragon in you.)"

I froze as the mockery in its eyes spread.

The next words from its mouth was in the common tongue, yet thunderous as ever "Have yet to learn our tongue, do you? Such arrogance, to dare take for yourself the name of Dovah."

The shred of humanity was brought about by a clear tone of disappointment.

"Sahloknir, krii daar joorre. (Sahloknir, kill these mortals.)" with that, it left. With mere a few of its wings swirling, it blended once again into the distant skyline. As if our death wasn't worth a single breath of his.

Sahloknir, the dragon that risen from the tomb, the flesh has just returned to its aged bones and it was just drawing in the first breathe of freedom. He turned to us without hesitation, and was reeling back and readying its shout. However, we are quicker than that. The time it took for the dragons to converse was more than enough for us to plan out attacks, we slammed out feet to the ground and rushed towards the side of the beast, anyone, including a dragon will hesitate when they are attacked from two fronts. And that moment of confusion will set the stage for our rhythm of war.

With the whirlwind on the edge of my blade, I slashed at the wings of this old dragon. I gripped my blades tight and hacked with all my strength at perhaps one of the least protected part of the dragon. Wings, we decided to go after the wings so it may not get a chance to fly. A dragon stuck in close quarters of the ground will be pathetic as a helpless lamb. Feeling the blood splashed on my cheek, I licked my lips a little. It was like a heated knife cutting butter. Granted, I did havemy swords reinforced at the skyforge after fighting MirMulNir at Whiterun. Thanks to old Eorlund, this will be easier than what I had struggled with last time around.

Delphine, followed my footsteps immediately after to the opposite side. In its agonizing scream, Sahloknir waved its claws and neck in an attempt to disengage from us. But to my surprise, Delphine the Innkeep/Blades warrior, does know her way in the field of battle.

Now dressed in a light armor, Delphine wields a one-handed long blade. Like our Scimitar, her sword is curved, but to a lesser extent, and a bit thinner. It's agile movement in and through the flesh and veins of the dragon's wings was quite impressive. Pretty soon the feeble membranes of its wings are decorated with marks left by both of our weapons. The tides of this battle is being turned.

Anger was fuming from the dragon as it tilted its giant head for a bite, I dodged out of the way quickly while deflecting his teeth with one of my blades as a block. A weakened dragon is still a dragon, I almost couldn't hold my blade straight for a split second as a numbness travelled up.

In a struggle to take flight, Sahloknir swung its wings so rapidly to call on a strong gust, hoping to disorient us enough to buy itself time. I was not about to let it gain enough orientation for the high ground though. Besides, what gives it the right to shout in front of me? The fabled last dragonborn.

'Fus-Ro-Dah!', even though my eyes could barely stay open in the cold wind, and I can feel my lazy strands of hair being blown behind me in clumps together, I shouted out the first words I learned as a Dovahkiin.

Air pressure built up as the power from the shout met the might of a dragon, in the middle of the two, the blown snow seem to pause for a split second, neither going north, nor south. Very quickly both force dissipated between us. The fallen snow charted a radiating path, like the ghost of a past explosion, onto the ground below.

Sahloknir, with its scales of grey and black, turned to me and opened its mouth, 'Your voice is strong… for a mortal…. Fo!'

The last of his syllable was in a different tongue, and with it, came a mini blizzard of ice washing over me and Delphine. Even with the warm leather armor on me, I could still feel the chilled touch that is worse than even the winters of our North.

Sahloknir lowered its head and with the smirk of a victor, he looked for the human shaped ice statue in front of him.

When he realized there had only been one person in front of him, struggling to get free from the ice. It was too late, for the great dragon Sah-Lok-Nir (Phantom-Sky-Hunt). I was right there under its long neck, and with no hesitation I ran my scimitar into the side of its neck. A bold and rare opening, had it been paying attention it would have easily bite my head off. But alas, it was clear that Sahloknir was not anticipating me to be able to use the whirlwind shout so quickly again, and it has now became its downfall. To see the weakness of a foe in the heat of the battle and take advantage of it, was not a trait passed down to me by the dragonborns, but rather the Forbearer, Tonendy of Hammerfell. I would rather fight this dragon again than to do another sparring session with Tonendy.

I thrust my right-hand blade into the neck of the dragon and watched it penetrate through from the other side, our earlier attacks on the dragon has weakened him but this is our first fatal blow. Warm blood of the dragon spilled like a geyser from the side of its neck at first, then it found its way in the stream following the hilt of my blade. I quickly wiped the blood from my eye lids down on the furs of my leather armor, it's a shame that these get dirty so fast.

Sahloknir was frenzy, it writhed in pain and it twisted it neck back and forth like a snack pinned to the ground. It was trying to shake me off but I held on to my blade and moved with it as much as I can. For insurance, I threw my left-handed blade in a criss-cross fashion, deep into its neck but this time coming out from its mouth.

There is no way he would still be alive after this, I thought, as a giant tail swipe from the dying dragon whipped me right in the stomach and sent me flying back into the arms of Delphine, who has just struggled out of the shroud of ice. We collapsed together.

A numbing pain churned my stomach and I spit out a little bit of blood, pretty sure I bit my own tongue by accident. I pushed to look up at the dragon, as it flails its last light away and stopped its aimless attack on its surroundings. That is when I finally let myself fell to the floor, panting, trying my hardest to calm my heart that is beating through my chest.

I was relieved, although it was a very short period of time, I still felt like I was gambling with my life. Took a lot of chances there and Sahloknir was just freshly revived, never even got a chance to take to the skies. And I do have the gut feeling that it has not recovered to its full strength as we were fighting. I would not have been able to do the same with MirMulNir at Whiterun. I bested yet another dragon, but I try not to let it go over my head. A hunter content in her own ways becomes the hunted.

As the familiar warm feeling washing over me, I was relieved at the sight of the flesh of the fallen dragon burning away. I slowly closed my eyes as I hear a fading voice calling out to my name and trying to shake me to stay awake.

I had another dream, a dream of the skies of stoned age and an age of fire and blood. Settled to a long time of darkness, surrounded by the cold grounds of Skyrim and the feeling of being buried alive. It was not a very pleasant dream.

…