Chapter 49: I See You

A cold, heavy downpour blurred Riverwood when Farkas and I arrived the next evening. The rain had seeped into my bones over the course of our ride south, dulling my senses. Coupled with fatigue it left little room to feel anything as I dismounted and squinted through the deluge to make out the lines of Hadvar's home.

The dragon's remains had been cleared from the street, but the abandoned building remained; windows dark and forge collapsed; a testament to purposeless wrath.

"Hey," Farkas nudged me gently, then smiled as he held his hand out for my horse's reigns. "Head on up. Rain isn't going to ease for a while."

"Right," I assented quietly.

Farkas tied the reigns to the post. The docile mares seemed unaffected by the rain and started grazing on the soggy flowers clumped by an overflowing water trough.

Perhaps the rain had dulled their senses, too. I turned my attention to the Sleeping Giant Inn. Its windows were aglow with orange light; a promise of warmth, a chance to dry out, and if I was very lucky, perhaps even rest.

But my eyes narrowed as I hurried up the stairs. I had not come to Riverwood to sleep.

I could never have imagined that the small, stern Breton woman would have been wound up in a quest that the Greybeards had sent me on. Farengar had told me that their contract was scholarly - and involved the decoding of documents pertaining to the Septim line – so why – not to mention how – had she taken the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller? Why go to such lengths to speak to me, when I had really made no secret of where I could be found?

My shield-brother dogged my every move, stepping past when we reached the verandah. He pushed the door open and heat flooded out to greet us; damp in its own way. We rushed into it, and the hammering of the deluge immediately softened. I hadn't realised how noisy the rain had been until we stepped out of it, and its absence brought my head a small relief. For a moment we busied ourselves brushing off water and stripping outer layers, hanging them over the drying racks close to the hearth.

All the while, my mind ticked over the actions of Delphine Comtois; what she wanted, why she hadn't just come to me for herself. She's being hunted, remember? Maybe she couldn't risk climbing the seven-thousand steps to ask for the Dragonborn.

Sighing impatiently, I frowned. But she can waltz into Whiterun for a meeting with Farengar?

Determined to untangle the riddle, I glanced around for signs of her. Across the hearth, the barkeep stood serving a tall Nord woman with honey hair, half-smiling as he murmured; his words indiscernible from this side of the tap room. The resident bard – Sven, wasn't it? – sat across from the door, plucking at his lute and morosely singing Love's Eternal Flame – to himself, for he had no audience to speak of.

It was so like the last time I had been here that my breath caught in my throat. Skyrim had changed; I had changed; but this little inn in Riverwood? It might have been the same day I had stepped in searching for a mercenary to take me to the Barrow.

"Feels like a trap." Farkas murmured in a low, dark voice.

"She'll be here," I soothed, throwing him a glance that I hoped conveyed steadiness, despite the leap to my chest. I hadn't considered that. "Relax. Have a drink, if you like. Just – keep your eyes open, okay?" I hushed.

"Hmm," Farkas grumbled. His narrowed eyes flickered to me as he arched an eyebrow. He said no more, but his expression said it all – because of course, he could sense my unease.

Rolling my eyes, I set my sights on the bar and strode toward it. The only customer turned away and made for a nearby table with a pitcher of ale and a plate of fish and potatoes. The barkeep stood tall; observed our approach. His mouth lifted into a practised, welcoming grin.

For ten paces I agonised over whether I should ask for the attic room or not. The inn had no attic. But if I wanted to retrieve the horn and return to the Greybeards, I would have to play Delphine's game – for now.

The very thought incensed me to the core. Being Dragonborn wasn't a game.

"Welcome, travellers," the Nord behind the bar rumbled. "Bit of a sorry night to be out wandering. The name's Orgnar – what'll it be, a brew, a bed – or both?"

"Where is she?" Farkas snarled.

My heart leapt into my throat and my anger fled. I grasped his arm in warning – holding him back.

Orgnar's brows crossed in confusion; unaffected by my shield-brother's venom as his eyes flickered between us. "Who?" he frowned.

"Sorry. I mean," internally, I winced – where had that come from? Nice work, Farkas. "I'm – we're," I took a steeling breath as I shot Farkas a pleading glance. Help. His bark had thrown me.

"Bed," Farkas murmured, his voice still rough, though much more controlled as he shrugged me off. "Been a long day."

"I can imagine," casting him a final, wary glance, Orgnar turned his attention to me. "You can have the room across the way for fifteen septims," he motioned beyond us.

"Thank you, but," I met his eyes; gratefully calm – at least on the outside. "We've heard good things about the attic room," I fixed Orgnar with a small smile. "Is it available?"

If it meant anything to him, Orgnar didn't show it. "Having a bit of a laugh, whoever told you that."

No kidding, I arched an eyebrow, maintaining my smile.

With an amused twitch to his mouth, he nodded to a room on our right. "Try that one, then. It's a bit bigger, you might be more comfortable in it."

With a weariness I didn't have to feign, I dropped money into Orgnar's palm and yawned. "Perfect."

"Rest well," he murmured after our retreating forms.

My shield-brother clicked the door closed behind us. The sound of a laboured sigh as the key was turned in its lock travelled to me.

I glanced around the expansive room, giving Farkas some space to ease off. It was about three times the size of the one in Ivarstead, with a double bed against the back wall and two single beds against others, each with wooden storage chests at their ends.

"Sorry 'bout that," Farkas stepped up beside me, rolling his shoulders and wincing. His neck cracked ominously.

Shuddering, I shot him an exasperated look. "What happened to you?"

"Eh?"

"When you snarked at Orgnar," I confirmed hastily. "You're usually so...controlled? Anything in particular...set you off?"

Like my rage, as we approached the bar?

"Ah. I was angry, wanted to wipe the smug grin off his face," he waved a hand, nonchalant. "Wasn't you, if that's what's bugging you. Doesn't work that way," Farkas flashed me a half-smile. "You know that."

I huffed. Well, I had tried. "How does it work?" I mumbled. My eyes travelled the extents of the room in case the horn happened to be lying about, even though I knew it wouldn't be. Where was Delphine, then?

Farkas shrugged, frowning at the far wall. "Not sure how to explain it. Your heart just...smells different, when your emotions change, and he – we want to...help? But the need doesn't control us, like...you know."

"Yeah, I know," I sighed. I slid my pack and bow to the floor as I sank to the end of a bed. For all his fumbling, he had made sense. Whatever this was between my dragon and their wolves; it didn't coerce them, as Hircine had. That was something at least.

I stared down at the thin, yellow rug covering the floorboards with a track mark worn through it; my eyes traced the stitches. "What are we doing here?" I murmured at it.

Farkas didn't answer. His booted feet strode through my field of view, straight over the worn line in the carpet.

I glanced up, curious. That had been...purposeful.

My shield brother stopped in front of the wardrobe, threw it open, and huffed a laugh as he shifted aside some long coats and bumped the inner wall with his closed fist. "Thought so," he glanced over his shoulder with a satisfied smirk as the back panel of the wardrobe slid away. "Hidden room. And someone's down there. A woman."

"Delphine," my eyes widened. I stood hurriedly and pushed my weariness aside. Rushing over, I peered around him. A darkened flight of stairs, disappearing into blackness. "Good work," I whispered.

Farkas stepped inside, drawing one of his swords. "Let's get this over with."

Though I swallowed down my fear at the menacing picture he painted, I was unable to fault him, and wondered if I should go back for my bow. But then, there'd be no space to fire around Farkas in a basement.

Biting my bottom lip with indecision, I made my choice and trailed after Farkas. He had defended me against worse than a single woman, no matter who she was. I could always use Fus Ro, if I needed to.

This isn't a battle. This is a conversation.

And with that thought – and the thu'um to fall back on if it all went wrong – I decided that I should be the one to meet her.

My eyes barely had time to adjust to the blackness before we reached the sealed door. Lifting a hand to Farkas' shoulder, I urged him to stop, conveying a wordless message with raised eyebrows when he looked to me.

I didn't see his reaction in the gloom, but when he let me pass, I figured he had gotten the message. The darkness was stifling, consuming, and I wondered why there were no signs of light from the room on the other side? Was Delphine sitting in there, alone, in the dark?

Time to find out.

I faltered as I reached for the handle – but changed my mind, lifted higher, and rapped my knuckles swiftly against the wood.

Farkas grunted in disbelief over my shoulder. I flashed him a glance, daring him to question this course. The chances of obtaining the horn and walking out with it diminished if we stormed in and rudely started making demands. I was a bard; I could talk us through this.

"Be nice," I mouthed.

At the swift clatter of approach from within I whipped back to face the door. Within seconds, a key was being turned in a lock, then another, and then a chain was being drawn back.

The door cracked open; there was light within. An eye peered through the gap, flickering over me, then past me; brimming with paranoia, and accusation.

We were hunted by Thalmor and had to kill them, because of you, was the first thought to assemble, but I held my tongue. Taking a step back and bumping into a solid wall of Farkas, I managed, "I...got your note."

Delphine opened the door and stood at her full height, the accusation gone. "I suppose you did," she murmured thoughtfully.

She was wearing a common getup – a long green dress, simple leather belt, and white apron with cleaning rag hastily stuffed into one of the pockets. The fine, pale strands of her hair were neatly wound into a knot on her shoulder, accentuating the hard lines of her face. While we measured each other, I realised she was older than I had first thought. When I had seen her with Farengar, I had thought her to be somewhere in her thirties. Upon inspecting her now – properly taking in creases around her eyes and mouth, and leathery skin – I placed her closer to fifty. Her expression belied anything but simple innkeeper as she frowned between Farkas and I with piercing, ice-blue eyes.

Finally, her eyes settled on my shield-brother, and she spoke. "Why is he here?"

"He's my shield-brother," I supplied hurriedly, cutting off Farkas' response - what I was sure had been little more than a growl. "Can we come in?"

Delphine's attention was on me again and her mouth twitched as she shifted to one side. "That's right. You're one of the legendary Companions now, aren't you?"

Did she actually have the nerve to ridicule me, about something I was proud of, or was she always so full of judgement? "Among other things," I idled, stepping past her. If she was trying to get a rise out of me, she would not get it; Farkas' display of anger toward Orgnar had completely dulled my rage, and reminded me that there were smarter, faster ways to get what I wanted than yelling. This was now just another job that needed to perform my way through.

My eyes flit around the basement with mild interest, taking in a desk, a locked chest, a weapon rack. Not much else; it was an office devoid of personality. I turned back to the door.

Farkas shadowed me; the air about him dense and fearsome again. A bubble of nervousness burst within me, though I managed to hold back my surprise, or I might have laughed.

"You're Delphine Com-twa?" Farkas grumbled, murdering her name with his accent.

"Huh," Delphine closed the door, locking it resolutely. She hesitated, replying softly to the wood panels. "Haven't heard that name for a long time. Where did you hear it?"

"Where's the horn?" I returned evenly.

Delphine turned; nodded once that she understood. We would answer nothing until she had handed it over. "It's here. I needed to make sure that you weren't a Thalmor spy," she muttered, then made for the locked chest.

I arched an eyebrow at her back and flickered Farkas an incredulous look. He was still staring daggers through Delphine's spine.

"That's...utterly ridiculous," I glanced back to her.

Delphine huffed as she threw open the lid of the chest. "Is it?"

"Do you assume everyone you meet is a spy?" I countered.

She turned with a bone horn tight in her grasp. "It's how I'm still alive. Here," she held it out. "It's yours."

I stared at it; glanced back to her. She was really just giving it to me?

With a dark, sidelong look, Farkas sheathed his sword and strode toward her.

Delphine's expression fell flat; unimpressed. "I'm not going to bite her."

"Just – give it to him," I rolled my eyes at the both of them. "How did you get it?" I moved further into the room, leaned against the desk and squared Delphine. "There were others at Ustengrav – excavating the tomb – and they weren't the friendliest of people. I assume they were after it as well," I waved toward the horn now tucked safely in Farkas' hand.

Delphine hmphed. "I can be sneaky, when I want to be."

"I'm sure you can," I crossed my arms. "But that doesn't explain how you got by the locked gateway they were trying to dig around. I had to use a thu'um to make it."

With a barely perceptible roll to her eyes, Delphine moved toward her desk. "No, it doesn't. There's no time to explain, either," she continued plainly.

I watched her closely as she busied herself on the other side of her desk – closing books and moving them to reveal a large parchment – a map of Skyrim. Farkas stepped into the corner of my eye and passed the horn.

"Thank you," I murmured, glancing down. The large piece of bone was exceedingly plain; dark and ribbed, and curved twice; once near the mouthpiece and the other close to its trumpet. I had to admit that I had expected something a little more inspiring. "Why did you call me here, if not to talk?" I asked, dragging my eyes from it.

Delphine was regarding me with eyes narrowed but nebulous, leaning over her desk with both hands resting on the tabletop. Her thin fingers arched, seemingly reflexively. "Because you're going to help me stop dragons from coming back from the dead."

What? My stomach twisted in desperate hope and I bit my tongue to measure my reaction. Here I had been thinking that she was going to round on me about the past – about the damned Septim connection Farengar had postulated over!

"You know how to stop them?" I fumbled hastily, incredulous. This was much better – if Delphine had figured it out – I could forgive her for taking the horn, for the Thalmor attack – anything.

She glanced down, eyes bright as they roved the map between us. "I've identified a pattern, so I'm testing a theory, but I need your help. I've visited these dragon burial mounds," she pointed to a few spots on the map, each marked with a little red cross, "and found them empty. Dragons have always been sighted nearby. Someone is reanimating them, and I think I know where they're going to strike next."

"They?" I burst. "Why – who? And how?"

Delphine lifted her eyebrows; blinked slowly. "The question you meant to ask is where," she drawled.

"No it isn't," I stood taller, glanced to Farkas in concern. He was still and watchful, though gave me a barely perceptible nod when I made eye contact. "What if Ulfric is behind the return of the dragons?" I asked in horror. Or worse; Giselle and Ulfric?

"Ulfric?!" Delphine barked a laugh.

My eyes whipped back to her. "Yes, Ulfric," I bit out. "Had the first dragon not appeared in Helgen, he would have been executed that day. His involvement is not so unlikely."

Delphine glanced down; her amusement persisted with an ironic lilt. "You give him far more credit than he is owed."

"I really don't."

"Ulfric is not bringing dragons back to life," Delphine's head shot up as she fixed me with a controlled stare. "But if we leave now, we may have a chance to find out who is responsible."

"All right," I reigned back the desire to argue with her. "Where?"

"That's better," Delphine smirked. "Small hamlet to the north-east, by the name of Kynesgrove."

I didn't recognise the place, but Farkas huffed a mirthless laugh. "Why would a dragon attack Kynesgrove?"

"Why would a dragon attack Riverwood?" Delphine countered smoothly. Her eyes flickered to me and the knowing in her gaze made me uneasy. "Because it is what they do. They wake, they burn, and they kill. But not this time – if you will just – trust me."

Farkas snorted rudely, but I held my hand out to him. I could handle this. "Trust – isn't so easily given. It's earned."

Delphine tilted her head. "I gave you the horn."

Then hurriedly, she shook her head. She moved back to the chest and extracted a worn, heavy-looking plated cuirass. "Take the horn and go back to the Greybeards, if you think they have your answers, Passero."

I couldn't help but glance to Farkas; wishing I could ask what he was picking up from her. We knew the Greybeards didn't know why I had been made Dragonborn, much less how or why the dragons had risen throughout Skyrim. If Delphine had any answers for me, I would have to trust her, to some extent.

But I didn't like it. She wasn't just testing some theory; I felt as though she was testing me.

Farkas grimaced. "Your call, sister. I'm with you."

Delphine started to strip out of her clothes. I turned swiftly to give her some privacy, grabbing Farkas' arm and making him turn, when he neglected to do so.

"No. I don't believe they do," I answered finally, regretfully, over my shoulder. "But after we do this – I must have some answers."

The woman grunted, and steel jangled – a struggle to tug the armour over her head, by the sounds. "If we survive Kynesgrove, I'll tell you anything you want."

Steeling myself with a controlled breath, I nodded to the wall. "All right. We'll help you test your...theory."

–

It simultaneously pained and relieved me to leave Riverwood behind us, and then I felt alarmingly clear-headed during the rainy ride north-east, considering I had just agreed to face not only a dragon, but also whoever was waking them, if Delphine's theory proved to be correct.

We travelled too fast to maintain conversation, not that Dephine would have given anything away had it been possible. I was somewhat grateful that for the moment, none was required of me, as well. All I had to do was keep my horse on the road and follow Delphine and Farkas' mounts.

As dawn had peeked over the eastern ranges, turning the top-most snow a glorious golden colour, I had slowed my mare long enough to retrieve a stamina potion from my pack.

Farkas had stayed back with me, but wrinkled his nose when I had offered half the bottle to him.

I had upended the rest without complaint; I needed to be alert more than I needed my tastebuds, and I had barely slept in the past two days.

The sun was high in the sky by the time we made our approach to the settlement. I had little time to take it in – but truthfully there was little to take in. An inn – a farm – a few tents and a mine.

There were people, too – but they were in a panic, running from the village.

"What's happening?" Delphine's voice boomed with authority as she tugged her mare to a skittering halt.

"Turn around and run!" a fleeing woman screeched. "There's a dragon circling the grove!"

"If it smells people the village will be next!" a man bellowed; clearly a miner, still grasping his pickaxe as he ran by.

Delphine grunted in frustration. "We're too late," she kicked her heels into her horse's flank. "C'mon!"

Hastily surveying the skies – I saw no dragon. "Shouldn't we leave the horses?" I called after her.

She didn't answer – and was possibly too far away to hear me. With an exasperated sigh, I urged my horse after her.

Farkas remained close by; matching his horse's pace to mine as we sped up. "Dismount at the crossroads!" he called over the thundering hooves and cries of alarm whipping about us.

I acknowledged with a sharp nod. The road beyond the village boundary wound a zig-zagging path across the side of a mountain, and while there was only a sparse scattering of vegetation, Delphine had already drawn far enough ahead that I had lost sight of her to the boulders either side of the pass.

The crossroad boasted enough flat earth for a post to stand on – signalling Windhelm to the north, Whiterun to the south, and Solitude to the west, far beyond the ascent we were to take to the burial mound. We jumped down and left the horses on the road – there was no other place for them. My horse whickered softly, but showed no other signs of fear.

A sudden ache filled me at the prospect of this steady creature becoming a dragon's meal because of me. Grasping her bridle, I pet her nose gently. "You be safe, okay? If the dragon comes, you run away and hide. Farkas will find you later."

She flickered her ears and lowered her head, munching at a clump of spiky-looking yellow grass with a snort.

"They'll be fine," Farkas grabbed a short bow from a flap between his saddle and saddle blanket. "Stay with me, no matter what happens up there, okay? I don't have any arrows."

"Not a problem," I slung my quiver over my shoulder. I wanted to be close to Farkas too, to make sure he didn't transform. I had a feeling that Delphine wouldn't accept his curse as readily as Lydia had. "Ready?"

Farkas nodded. "You?"

I returned his nod but dug around in my pack, extracting two red potion bottles and stuffing them into my coat pocket. "Now I am."

Farkas set off up the hill on foot, and I hurried to keep with him. After a second or two of running, the terrified scream of a horse cut through the air. Farkas whipped me back just in time to avoid Delphine's horse as it barrelled past us, its hooves smashing into the dirt path as it tore down the mountain.

"Guess Delphine's walking home," I murmured flatly.

Farkas hmphed and lowered his arm, but the sound he made was overwhelmed by another – the great, steady whoosh of beating wings.

We turned back to the path in unison in time to see an enormous black dragon circle a point at the top of the next rise.

"Heads up," Farkas grabbed an arrow from my quiver, then started to climb again.

With a chill that shot straight down my spine, I grabbed his arm, though was unable to look away from the beast hovering before us.

"Sahloknir, ziil gro dovah ulse!"

Phantom Sky Hunt, ever-bound dragon spirit rasped through my head and I tried to shake the voice clear so I could speak. "Farkas, I know that dragon," I hissed urgently.

"Slen tiid vo!"

Flesh against time flashed through me with a thud that shook my core; my fingers tightened around Farkas' arm as my eyes clenched shut, just for a second.

Farkas' silvery eyes whipped to me. "Know it?"

My gaze remained locked on the dragon as I nodded. Oh but it – he – was enormous – I'd forgotten just how big he was.

"It's the dragon that attacked Helgen," I whispered.

Farkas cursed, glancing up along the pass; his eyes narrowed on our quarry. "Can we take it?"

I opened my mouth to tell him no, but my words died in my throat.

"Alduin, thuri! Boaan tiid vokriiha suleyksejun kruziik?"

Destroyer Devour Master, my overlord! Has time come to revive the ancient realm?

Now I cursed. The voice of a second dragon propelled me forward.

Farkas was beside me in an instant, calling out over the screeches – the conversation - happening above us. "You know what's going on here?"

Focussing on running, I simply nodded; my eyes back on the black dragon – Destroyer Devour Master, the other had named him. What I had heard was as clear as a bell in the recesses of my mind, but what they had said, and what we had seen, didn't make sense. The dragon had woken the other dragon. This dragon – this Alduin – he was in control. He was their overlord.

Delphine's theory was correct – someone was reanimating long-dead dragons.

We crested the rise and arrived at the burial mound, though the circular earth had been freshly spun and churned, and great clumps of compacted dirt and stone littered the clearing. Tearing my eyes from Alduin for long enough to scan the area, I saw the other; Sahloknir – huge, but no where near the size of the dragon above us – his scales ablaze and his bones reforming before our eyes.

My hair and cloak whipped around me as the false wind created by the beating wings above tried to push me away. My gaze flickered to another source of movement from afar; it was Delphine, darting toward us.

"Nice of you two to join me," she called out.

How could she be so calm? My eyes flickered over her, wide and wild. "Turns out we weren't too late."

As I spoke, the serpentine head above swivelled toward us and I felt Alduin's very presence endeavour to crush me.

"Zu'u koraav hi, mal Dovahkiin."

I see you, little Dragonborn. The hissing acknowledgement demanded that I thaarn; kneel, submit, obey.

Outside of the dialogue, the world swirled in a maelstrom of bright colours and faraway noises. Delphine was speaking, but I didn't hear what she said around the roar of my blood between my ears; the thump-thump of my joor heart. A hand, large and urgent, was on my arm – I shrugged it off and took a step closer to the beast. The desire to rise, to soar, thrummed through me, desperate and yearning.

But the feeling - it was not mine. Eyes narrowing, indignation swelled, incensed that this dovah would dare try to compel me. "Zu'u koraav hi, Alduin," I called to him, lifting my bow; aiming at the space between his beady eyes.

The dragon screeched to the heavens; a wordless cry thick with amusement. With an arcing swoop, he turned, diving toward us.

I fired, but my arrow merely glanced off his scales as Alduin turned at the last second. A wall of air hit me in his wake, throwing me back.

For a heartbeat, I was flying.

"Fin pahlok do joor!" Alduin jeered as his great black form wove up, up, toward the clouds. "Sahloknir, krii niin pah."

With a thump, I landed on my back with a wooden crack; the wind knocked out of me and my quiver smashed. The arrogance of mortals, he had screeched, before ordering our deaths. I watched the skies, gaping for breath as Alduin became smaller and more indistinct.

He's leaving?

"Celeste, get up!" Farkas was yelling, pleading. His hand closed around my arm; his tug urgent, desperate as he dragged me to my feet and to the side of the clearing.

Whump; my back met unyielding stone.

Farkas' fists closed around the shoulders of my armour, holding me back, and holding me up. His eyes glowed with otherworldly light, brimming with a fierce dread. "Look at me," he demanded. "Come back!"

The tether that had tied me to Alduin snapped; propelling me into the now. I drank in a breath; drowned in it, and coughed fitfully as I gasped for more, suddenly parched. The air was sharp and cold and sawed against my throat raw; too much, and not nearly enough. I grabbed for Farkas to cling to something real as my other hand closed more tightly around my bow handle. "I – I'm here," I stuttered.

Whooooosh.

I squinted as lights flickered before my eyes; sunlight reflecting off dragon scales as the beast that had been ordered to kill us flew past.

"Any time now, Passero!" Delphine's cried from afar, her voice bitter with anticipation.

"Dii drog Alduin uth hin dinok, mal Dovahkiin," Sahloknir called.

I glanced up, watching the reborn dragon as it twisted and turned above us. The translation came to me – yes, Alduin had ordered our deaths – but it was breathtaking to watch the light scatter across Sahloknir's silvery scales as he spiralled aloft, while the dense burgundy lines on his wings, neck and tail seemed to absorb the brightness. He had slept for so long, that to wake, to dance, to sing, was a gift.

It was the sound of Farkas' arrow leaving his bow that woke me up this time. Sahloknir must have heard it whirring toward him – the dragon dipped to avoid it, screeching as he dived toward my shield-brother with that sound that I could only relate to amusement.

"Nii los dii kogaan wah thaarn rok," Sahloknir hissed. "Yol toor -!"

"Bo!" roaring for my shield-brother to move, I leapt in front of him before the coalescing fire could leave the dragon's maw. "Fus Ro!"

My thu'um forced the flames back down the dragon's throat; with a wheeze, smoke curled between his teeth as the Shout turned in on its speaker. The long body snaked vertically up, pushed by the force of my voice, flapping frantically to gain traction against the wind and barely avoiding the rocks we had sheltered against.

Gratefully, nobody needed to be told that now was the time to fire. Delphine and Farkas' arrows flew at Sahloknir, spearing his softer underside and wing.

When I reached behind me for an arrow to join them, my hand grasped at nothing. With a curse, I ducked, scrambling for one of the arrows that had fallen when my quiver had broken.

The dragon recovered before I had risen; bold and mocking as he glided around the clearing. "Nii los kos aan balaan krif, ruz. Kul!"

It's to be a worthy fight, then. Good! Gritting my teeth as my fingers clenched around arrow shaft and dirt alike, I rose, fixed on Sahloknir as I lifted my bow and took aim. Alduin had called me arrogant, but if I was, it paled by comparison to that borne by the dragon he had woken.

And every dragon he had woken before Sahloknir.

Images of days past, of dragons past, flit through my mind. The western watchtower, before the Greybeards had called me. The small dragon, after the Nightgate incident. Nahagliiv, that dark and terrifying night in Rorikstead. And Riverwood.

Skirting out of the path of Sahloknir's attack, I re-aimed, and fired as he swept past me.

"This is not the first dragon that the Legion has danced with."

Hadvar's voice was like a beacon, lighting my path. There were countless others out there, raised from the dead, and for what? To revive the ancient realm, Sahloknir had asked Alduin, as he had been reborn.

Another arrow was thrust into my hand; Farkas dodged past me, taking aim with an arrow shaft between his teeth and his narrowed eyes on the skies. Glancing around the clearing, I found Delphine swiftly. Her eyes were focussed; her face emotionless as she released her readied arrow.

My eyes were newly opened, but now was really not the time to speculate over Alduin's purpose.

Shucking off my broken quiver, I grabbed what arrows I could as I darted to Farkas' side. Sahloknir teased and taunted, screamed and raged as my shield brother and I continued to watch and fire, and I suppressed the urge to talk back to the creature. He wanted my response, wanted my fear, and I would not give it to him.

Whenever Sahloknir Shouted at us, thanks to the warnings I received, there was always time to move out of its way – time to evade, and then, time to fire as the beast zipped past.

When my eyes weren't on Sahloknir – when I dared to glance her way - Delphine was always directly opposite us; her sharp eyes trained on the dragon's underbelly – darting aside whenever the dragon's claws, tail, or fiery breath, drew too close.

It took longer to ground Sahloknir than it had to ground any other dragon I had faced, but once enough arrows had pierced his wings, he tumbled down, crashing on top of his own burial mound with a furious screech and a resounding thud.

The moment he was down, Farkas and Delphine leapt at him. My shield-brother threw his bow aside and drew both swords before he had landed, and his eyes flashed as he buried his blades to the hilt into the dragon's belly. Delphine appeared from the other side, launching herself onto Sahloknir's neck, still wearing that impassive mask around icy-blue eyes that gleamed with fanatical victory as she drove a long, thin blade down.

"Ni!" Sahloknir wheezed in agony. "Zu'u lost nunon su'um fin lok ont!"

Aiming my last arrow, I shuffled forward, and fired. Yes, I thought, as the translation thrummed through me. And you could have tasted the sky for longer, had you not bent to Alduin's will.

I lowered my bow; my breath hitching as my arrow cut through the softer skin underneath the dragon's eye.

He screamed, throwing his head back. Delphine and Farkas twisted to move with him, reaffirmed their grips; drove their swords home again.

I startled at the brutality of my companions, knowing that this had to be done. The word Riverwood thumped through my head, in time with the beat of my heart.

"Zu'u fen bo! Zu'u fen lahney!"

I was struck by the longing to Sahloknir's cries; his pleas to fly, to live.

But it was too late. "Daar los hin dreh, Sahloknir," I told him, taking a step forward, recognising the dragon's death throes. This is your doing, Sahloknir. He did not have long, and he would hear me before he died; before I absorbed his soul.

While he shuddered, his sharp, almost white eyes found me; wide with anticipation, with knowing.

"Stop engaging with it, Passero," Delphine barked. "Finish it off," she grit her teeth, locking her legs around his neck, driving her sword toward the dragon's skull.

It was a death blow; Sahloknir arched a final time and his maw flew open as he screamed.

"There's no need," I told Delphine, watching as his head dropped slowly down; jumping a little as his skull thudded against the ground. The light in his eyes extinguished, and his tongue lolled obscenely between his razor-sharp teeth. "Nii oblaan," I whispered. It's done.

Relief and sadness swamped me with equal ferocity. Sahloknir had attacked us – taunted us – would most certainly have killed us, had we not been equipped to meet him.

But I had felt the compulsion of Alduin for myself when he had looked upon me, looked through me and identified me as dovakiin. I had found the will to fight him – but then, I was not a dragon. I was a human woman with a strange connection to them that nobody, not even the scholars who had studied the Dragon Blood for eras, properly understood. So perhaps I couldn't be bent to his will, as his kin could. Perhaps this was the protection of Akatosh; perhaps this was all being Dragonborn truly meant.

The ethereal brilliance of Sahloknir's soul blinded me the moment it crashed into me. I squeezed my eyes shut as I accepted the heavy intelligence, hearing, feeling an echo of his own regret as his presence merged with those I had taken before him. His will, his individuality, scattered, insubstantial, and all that remained was his power, fortifying me against what – no, who – I would have to face.

My eyes whipped open; brimming with tears from the too-bright glare as a potent realisation struck home. I hadn't been made Dragonborn to slay dragons. I had been made Dragonborn to save them.

–

"Do you even hear what you're saying?" Delphine asked; her tone thick with disdain. "The Dragonborn is the ultimate dragonslayer, not their saviour," she barked.

"No, listen to me," I insisted, leaning across the table and fixing her with a determined gleam. "I can hear everything they say – what possible reason could Akatosh have for giving me this ability, if not to understand them and what they face?"

Sitting back in frustration, she appealed to the ceiling; "Talos, give me strength."

We had been talking for hours. The Braidwood Inn was still empty in the wake of the dragon sighting, and would be for hours, possibly days yet.

But Delphine had insisted that we go inside for our 'little talk'.

And talk we had. After Delphine had stalked through the tiny tavern and pronounced it safe, we had assembled around the table furthest from the main door.

Delphine had introduced herself properly. She was a member of the Blades; that was why the Thalmor were after her. I recalled a little of their order from stories – On Oblivion was littered with references to their third-era Grandmaster and a smattering of others who had endeavoured to make Martin Septim the Emperor of Tamriel. They had been the bodyguards of Emperors, before disbanding around the time of the war, and the Penitus Oculatus had taken their place.

But Delphine knew more – so much more – and if half of what she told me was true, her paranoia was well placed.

The Blades had not disbanded – they had been hunted down and silenced by the Thalmor. She was the only surviving member, as far as she could tell, and had been evading attack since the Great War by keeping her head down in places too small to attract the attention of anyone. But while she had hidden, she had also searched; ever-devoted to locating the next great Dragonborn to watch over.

That's why she's searching for the identity of the Hero of Kvatch, I realised with a thud. If she could locate the Septim line, prove it had continued on into the fourth era, she would be able to watch them from afar, until a Dragonborn awoke.

She had sighed laboriously and shaken her head in a pensive manner as she had drawn her explanations to a close. "I didn't believe what I heard in Farengar's office that day," she mused. "A scrap of a girl, a bard, claiming to have activated a word wall," she huffed a bleak laugh. "I was so certain that you were a spy. But I cannot deny what I've seen. Cannot deny the facts. You are Dragonborn," she shrugged helplessly. "So, it is my duty as a Blade to protect and guide you," she added solemnly.

She said nothing of my lineage, and I took it to mean that she had not located the evidence she needed to explicitly pin that bloodline to mine. Though, now that she had acknowledged I was Dragonborn, perhaps she wouldn't need to?

While Delphine had started out reverent and pacified to some extent, her stern exasperation had returned when I had told her what the dragons had said, and more importantly; what the exchange had revealed to me about my purpose.

I flickered a glance Farkas' way, reaching to find a way to make her see reason. "Farkas – what do you say? It's not so implausible that the dragons are being coerced into attacking us by this Alduin, is it?" I asked pointedly. The parallels between their pact with Hircine and the dragons plight was not so dissimilar – but I couldn't come straight out and say it.

My shield-brother's silvery eyes flickered to me uneasily as his back straightened.

"Don't ask me," he lifted a tankard the size of my head to his lips. "This is definitely Vilkas territory," he added with a mutter before he took a lingering draught.

"Alduin, Sahloknir, Nahagliiv-" Delphine shook her head; her eyes narrowed. "You talk as though these beasts have a society, have reason. They're not pet rabbits, Celeste. They're killers. Do you forget what - and who you have lost to their flames?" she demanded.

I clenched my mouth shut so I wouldn't snap and took a deep breath through my nose, glaring through my lashes as I eased out a response. "Of course I haven't," I bit out quietly. "But do you judge a race by the deeds of one? I have lost more people at the hands of men following orders than I have dragons; do I tar all of humanity with the crimes of a few?"

Delphine sat back, fixing me with an aghast, wide-eyed stare. I could see how it pained her to maintain civility as she replied, "You are naïve beyond belief."

The corner of my mouth tilted down. "You call me naïve because I don't leap into battle cutting dragon's heads off without questioning why this might be happening?"

"No," Delphine hissed furiously. "I call you naïve because you have made up your mind about something based on your feelings, not facts. Dragons don't just bring other dragons back from the dead!"

Was all we had witnessed not fact enough for her? But again, I reigned back my response; took a moment to pause, collect my thoughts, breathe. Yes, she had seen all that I had seen – but she had not heard them. Every dragon I had faced had roused something deeper than sight and sound, and emotion; it called on instinct. As the silence lengthened, I searched for words to express how I knew what I claimed to know, but it was such a large, complicated experience that I couldn't settle on anything adequate.

"You have a better idea of what's going on, then?" Farkas spoke when I failed to.

"Again," Delphine's icy gaze flickered to my shield-brother. "I have theories," the hard edge to her voice smoothed as she continued. "That black dragon, your Alduin, did not just suddenly appear in Skyrim after a thousand years to wake its buddies. Somebody had a hand in bringing it back. It's our job," she glanced to me, "to find out who that is. Then we will find our why – and more importantly, a how. How to stop it."

I made myself consider her words. She was right in one regard; someone, or something, had woken Alduin at Helgen that day. He had not been circling a dragon mound, bringing another dragon to life; he had attacked, and his goal had been to kill – to destroy.

Fixing Delphine with a speculative look, I relented. "All right. Who do you think is pulling Alduin's strings?"

The Blade leaned forward, her palms flat on the table. Her eyes gleamed with zeal as she raised her eyebrows and whispered, "The Thalmor."

I sat back, unimpressed. After all that build up! "Of course you do," I murmured.

"No – I listened to your heart bleeding empathy for the dragons, now you will listen to me," she demanded. "The war would have been over had the dragon not attacked Helgen that day. Skyrim now finds itself in the middle of not only a civil war, but suffers indiscriminate dragon attacks. Everybody – Empire, Skyrim – we're all weaker for it. Everybody loses. Except for the Thalmor."

Sitting straighter in my seat, I asked flatly, "You have facts to support your theory?"

"Not yet," she narrowed her eyes minutely. "But – I'm working on it."

"On what?"

"A plan. A way to get into the Thalmor Embassy, gather information, and get out," she offered smoothly. "I'll need your help, though."

I coughed a laugh, glancing to Farkas with incredulity. Hadn't she told me that the Blades served the Dragonborn? I didn't want to pull rank on her – I didn't honestly expect her to follow me – but who did she think she was?

Farkas stood; his chair legs scraped loudly against the floorboards. "Think we're done here," he murmured, tossing a coin on the table for his ale. "C'mon, sister."

I had to agree with him. As I stood, Delphine did as well; leaning closer. "Okay. You know where to find me, when you tire of dragons killing all that you love. But, I've answered all of your questions – will you answer me one thing, before you leave?" her gaze was unyielding.

"That depends on the question," I conceded warily.

For a beat, she glanced over me; searching, considering.

Finally, she spoke; "Want to save your sister?" Delphine smirked. "Or should I ask; would you?"