"We may both end up dead, but at least it gets me out of Riverwood. I don't really think I'm cut out for the quiet life." Delphine moaned as she moved along.
The night was long, and the darkness shrouded the land. The moon would give off no light, as it was obscured by thick rainclouds that threatened to make Cura's night even more miserable.
Like travelling with Delphine wasn't a trip through the Deadlands already.
Cura had staved off a couple of wolves as they tread along the path.
"What's so important about me being Dragonborn?" Cura brought herself to ask as they followed a sharp cliffside next to a river.
"Dragons are coming back, and you're a born Dragonslayer. That's all you need to know right now." Delphine carefully maneuvered around a couple of crags, climbing around them. "I hope you're Dragonborn, I really do. But we'll find out soon enough."
Cura was silent for some time after that, but eventually spoke up again, out of curiosity. "Who are the Thalmor?"
"The faction that rules the Aldmeri Dominion. The ones who almost destroyed the Empire during the Great War, thirty years back. There's no worse enemy to humankind in Tamriel. The Empire barely survived the last war. The Thalmor don't intend to lose the next one." Delphine explained honestly.
"So, will you tell me why they've been hunting you?" Cura desired knowledge into this supposed ally.
"We hurt them in the past, and they have long memories." Delphine remarked as she led the way.
"Are you part-Altmer?" Cura pondered.
"Nedic and Aldmer, yes. Like all Bretons." Delphine sighed. "Don't you know anything about history?"
"A lot, actually." Cura stated. "And I'm always eager to learn more." She cleared her throat when she got no response. "But I asked you that because when I think about it, I'm surprised that the Empire trusts High Rock, given the fact Bretons share blood between Man and Mer."
"High Rock is one of the only provinces left in the Empire." Delphine stated. "The war fractured it, sure, but it remains loyal. Though, infighting is nothing new."
"Whoa!" Cura almost lost her footing when she was distracted, and Delphine was fast to catch her and pull her back on the narrow precipice.
"Where would you be without me?" Delphine snarked as she stopped Cura's premature death, to the young Breton's chagrin.
"At High Hrothgar, improving my Thu'um." Cura put it bluntly. "...But... thanks for catching me."
"We can't have you dead, if you're our only hope." Delphine expressed. "A Vigilant of Stendarr, the Dragonborn. Akatosh save us." She scoffed as she continued the trail.
After a slow descent, they came upon an establishment called Mixwater Mill; a logging parlour. They were getting closer to their destination. Delphine turned back to Cura and wryly spoke. "There's an inn at Kynesgrove - the Braidwood. I hear they serve a nice dark ale. Nothing on the Sleeping Giant, of course."
"Still, it could be a good idea after the Dragon." Cura suggested, to which Delphine surprisingly nodded in agreement.
"Heck, if you can slay this Dragon, I'll buy you some drinks." Delphine offered, surprising to Cura.
"Sure! I accept!" Cura grinned eagerly with confidence. Now she had something to look forward to.
Delphine smiled graciously. "I'm glad you were willing to trust me. I know it probably wasn't the best way to introduce myself. But old habits... you know."
"They die hard. I know." Cura completed the saying. "I apologize for my rudeness, too. I'm used to being looked down on, and it's become a coping strategy, I suppose."
Delphine nodded. "You're young. You've got a lot to learn about life. Don't spend it apologizing for every small thing; sometimes people can get a clue from further conversation."
Cura nodded. Like how a slap in the face could convey so much more than a word or ten.
When they crossed a stone bridge heading towards Windhelm Stables, Delphine pointed at the small mountains due Southeast, "Not too much farther now. Kynesgrove is just down the road to the Southeast of here."
Cura looked at the large walled city of Windhelm, shrouded in a misty vapour beneath the falling snow, isolated on the other side of the river.
Windhelm, home of the Stormcloaks. Surely a half-elf such as herself would be unwelcome there. A shame; she'd heard about their great Arena and would like to have seen it someday. Maybe she would take the chance to see the famed Paladins of the Pits in action someday. For now, she kept following Delphine over the white hills, until a small village began to enter their view.
Delphine pointed to it. "This is Kynesgrove. Not much to look at. The innkeeper ought to be able to tell us if there's any dragon mound nearby."
"You didn't know where it was?'' Cura questioned her judgment.
"I knew it was here, but we'll find out where, exactly. Calm down." Delphine crossed her.
Immediately, the Innkeeper came running out of the Inn and blocked Cura's path. "No, you don't want to go up there! A Dragon... it's attacking!"
"A Dragon?" Cura didn't see one.
"Big and black, with jagged scales!" the Innkeeper trembled. "Don't go there! It'll kill you!"
"On top of the hill?" Delphine asked, to which the frazzled woman nodded. She then turned to Cura. "There it is, then."
"No, don't! It will kill you!" the Innkeeper pleaded, grabbing Cura's robe.
"Come on. We need to find out what's happening up there!" She gestured for Cura to follow her as she took off running up the hill side.
The Vigilant gently released her from her robe. "Don't worry about us; just please, keep the people safe." She then followed after Delphine.
Upon arriving at the site, Cura and Delphine saw the large, black dragon hovering in place above a large buried crater. "Gods above! Look at that!" Delphine exclaimed, the sting of terror hanging in her throat.
Cura's heart raced in horror as all of Helgen flashed before her eyes. The fire, the death, the Thu'um, the blood, the falling buildings, the smoke...
Cura held herself, and slowly began to hyperventilate. Delphine pulled her back, behind a rock, where they would be hidden as Cura trembled. "Stay under cover. This is what we came for. We need to see what happens." Delphine stated as she held Cura in place. "Steady."
Alduin spoke, and Cura could understand his speech. "Sahloknir, ziil gro dovah ulse! (ever-bound dragon spirit!) Slen tiid vo! (Let your flesh be restored!)"
Slowly, the reverse of Cura's soul absorption took place; from the mound crawled a skeleton of a Dragon, and flame began to turn into flesh, and then scales around it.
Delphine's eyes widened in awe and horror as she watched her suspicions crumble before the great and terrible truth. Cura began to breathe again, and slowly crept from the rock for a closer view.
Sahloknir spoke quickly and loyally."Alduin, thuri! Boaan tiid vokriiha suleyksejun kruziik? (Alduin, my overlord! Has time come to revive the ancient realm?) "
Alduin continued to hover menacingly, and responded with word and bared fangs. "Geh, Sahloknir, kaali mir. (Yes, Sahloknir, my trusted ally.)"
Cura stepped forward boldly and Shouted at Alduin. "FUS RO!"
"What are you doing?!" Delphine shouted at Cura, alerting the Dragons.
The Shout dissipated on contact with the dreaded Alduin, to Cura's horror. "Ful, losei Dovahkiin? Zu'u koraav nid nol dov do hi. (So, you're the Dragonborn? I do not recognize you as dragon.)"
"I am Dragonborn!" Cura exclaimed. "And I will destroy you, you Demon!"
Alduin snarled in condescending disgust: "You do not even know our tongue, do you? Such arrogance, to dare take for yourself the name of Dovah." The black Dragon hissed each word out, a show of hate and mockery for the men and their languages. "Sahloknir, krii daar joorre.
(Sahloknir, kill these mortals.)" The Drake spat as he took to the skies.
Cura grit her teeth.
"Time to put you to the test." Delphine stood beside her, dual blades drawn, poised for battle.
Cura nodded and readied her own weapon and shield as the pair faced the Dragon, Sahloknir.
Immediately, the wyrm blew ice at the pair. Cura maneuvered around the gust, and Delphine rolled to her left, dodging the blast.
Quickly, the reflexes from several Dragon fights worked in Cura, and she uppercut the Dragon's maw, and proceeded to leap atop its snout. With a flurry of bashes, she took out its eyes with the hooked head of her Elven Mace, causing the fiend to hemorrhage out its ocular region. She then took out Dawnbreaker from her left hip, and stuck the sword through the roof of its mouth when it fell forward, penetrating the Dragon's brain from below.
The beast collapsed to the floor. Delphine stared in awe as she backed away from the force of impact. When the snow vapour cleared, Delphine spoke up. "I'll be damned, you did it! That was well done. Come on. I've been wanting a closer look at one of these buggers. Wait. Something's happening..." The Dragon's body began to dissolve into fire and its flesh flaked off in the embers. Its essence was yanked straight into Cura.
Delphine's jaw hung open at the raw spectacle. "Gods above! So you really are... I... it's true, isn't it? You really are Dragonborn."
Cura closed her eyes as the raw power stored itself within her veins. She felt empowered; as though she could burn a city to the ground single-handedly if she so desired. Thankfully, it was not her character to do so.
She turned to face Delphine, her eyes still glowing orange and violet with the essence of the dead Dragon before it subsided, and her eyes returned to their lovely emerald hue. "I told you." She stated plainly.
Cura really wasn't an average, run-of-the-mill half-Elf, after all. Delphine nodded in acknowledgement, and was ready to open up to the Dragonborn."I owe you some answers, don't I? Go ahead. Whatever you want to know. Nothing held back."
Cura was ready. "As I've asked before, who are you and what do you want with me?" She pressed the matter now. Now that Delphine could no longer cast any shadow over her.
"I'm one of the last members of the Blades. A very long time ago, the Blades were Dragonslayers, and we served the Dragonborn, the greatest Dragonslayer." Delphine explained. "For the last two hundred years, since the last Dragonborn Emperor, the Blades have been searching for a purpose. Now that Dragons are coming back, our purpose is clear again. We need to stop them."
"I agree. They are a terrible menace." Cura stated. "But surely you could tell me more about the Blades. I've read about them, but i've never had the luxury of meeting one, of course. The Pennitus Oculatus are the successors, but have nowhere near as much history and knowledge of the courts and of the Empire."
"I'm surprised you know of us. Nobody even remembers our name these days. We used to be known across Tamriel as the protectors of the Septim Emperors. Those days are long gone, though. For the last two hundred years, we've been searching for the next Dragonborn to guide and guard, as we are sworn to do. But we never found one. Until now." Delphine smiled for the first time as she gestured towards Cura. It seemed the young Breton's presence brought some kind of meaning to the older Breton's life once more.
Cura scratched her chin. "What do you know about the dragons coming back?"
"Not a damn thing. I was just as surprised as you to find that big black Dragon here." Delphine held a solemn hand to her chest and held her other hand upwards defensively.
"I've seen that terrible black Dragon before, the one that got away." Cura looked up to the sky, searching for the comfort of Stendarr as she forced herself to see Helgen twice in one day.
"Really? Where?" Delphine inquired.
"It was the one that attacked Helgen, when Ulfric escaped from the Imperials." Cura admitted. "I... was on the chopping block, myself. I had a great view."
"Interesting. Same dragon... Damn it, we're blundering around in the dark here! We need to figure out who's behind it all!" Delphine stomped her foot down in frustration.
Cura nodded. "Do you have any suspicions?"
Delphine held a finger to her lip in thought before coming up with a fast answer. "The Thalmor are our best lead. If they aren't involved, they'll know who is."
"Huh. You really seem to have it out for the Thalmor, don't you?" Cura noted her obsession.
"Don't mock me. I can guarantee you probably assumed it was something Daedric." Delphine gestured to the Amulet of Stendarr.
"Well..." Cura took a moment to find the wording, but could not deny it. "yeah, sort of."
"Don't call the kettle black." Delphine corrected her in a condescending manner.
"Remind me... who are the Thalmor?" Cura was curious. She knew they were High Elves, and that they controlled the Aldmeri Dominion, but she hoped to get additional input on them and their actions in the province.
"The faction that rules the Aldmeri Dominion. The ones who almost destroyed the Empire during the Great War, thirty years back. There's no worse enemy to humankind in Tamriel. The Empire barely survived the last war. The Thalmor don't intend to lose the next one." Delphine's anxiety stirred up when she recalled the fearsome might of the hateful Altmer.
Though, from Cura's interactions with them, she hadn't had that rough of a time, at least when compared to some of the other groups in Skyrim. Them meddling with the Dragons, who so far seemed to attack everyone without reservation, seemed a little bit far-fetched. "What makes you think the Thalmor are bringing dragons back?"
"Nothing solid. Yet. But my gut tells me it can't be anybody else. The Empire had captured Ulfric. The war was basically over. Then a dragon attacks, Ulfric escapes, and the war is back on. And now the dragons are attacking everywhere, indiscriminately. Skyrim is weakened, the Empire is weakened. Who else gains from that but the Thalmor?" Delphine pointed it out.
When Cura thought about it, logically, it was a sound assumption. It would be an underhanded way to defile a peace treaty, but very effective, if proven to be true. Though, there was no Thalmor Wizard bringing Sahloknir back to life; it was Alduin. Unless, by some twisted design, Alduin was working with the Elves? Even so, that was hard to believe. Especially with talk of the "ancient realm". Surely Delphine heard it, too.
Still, Cura had to know. "Why are the Thalmor after you?"
"Before the Great War, the Blades helped the Empire against the Thalmor. Our Grand Master saw them as the greatest threat to Tamriel. At the time, that was true. Maybe it still is. So we fought them in the shadows, all across Tamriel. We thought we were more than a match for them. We were wrong." Delphine's voice trailed off dreadfully at the end of her sentence. A grave look overtook her face. "They swarmed Cloud Ruler Temple... I barely made it out of there alive."
Cura felt bad for Delphine, as she could see the visible toll it all had taken on her, "I'm sorry to hear that..." the Vigilant sympathized, and Delphine simply nodded and took it.
Delphine 's eyes tensed. "The Blades have always guarded and guided the Dragonborn. But we'd forgotten why. Now our purpose is clear. I'm all that's left of the Blades, and you're the Dragonborn. Together we're going to stop these Dragons, if we have to put every last one of them back in the ground."
After a moment of silence, Cura spoke up again. "So, we need to find out what the Thalmor know about the Dragons. Do you have any ideas?" She had to confirm this for herself. This was a dire situation, Cura's attachment to half of her heritage aside.
"If we could get into the Thalmor Embassy... it's the center of their operations in Skyrim... Problem is, that place is locked up tighter than a miser's purse. They could teach me a few things about paranoia..." Delphine expressed with a grim laugh.
"So how do we get into the Thalmor Embassy?" Cura wondered aloud.
"I'm not sure yet. I have a few ideas, but I'll need some time to pull things together.." Delphine stated. "In a week or so, meet me back in Riverwood. If I'm not back when you get there, wait for me. I shouldn't be long. Keep an eye on the sky. This is only going to get worse."
Cura nodded. "Of course. Send me note by Courier."
Scoffing at the absurdity of it all, Delphine watched the gentle snowfall around them. "Emperor Titus Mede saved his Empire at a very high price. A price that included the Blades. The Nords didn't like the peace treaty much either. Thirty years later, the Empire ends up with the Stormcloak Rebellion on its hands. No doubt exactly as the Thalmor intended."
It was strange, wasn't it?
"Remember, one week exactly. I'll see you in Riverwood." Delphine gave her a polite half-bow before running down the hill.
It was Sundas, the 11th of Morningstar. Funny, in a week from now, it will be Cura's birthday, the 18th. What a way to spend it. With Delphine and the Thalmor.
Cura Fast Travelled to the Sleeping Giant Inn, and went inside to collect her party, but kept silent on the matters relating to Delphine, instead opting to hear about Kolb and the Dragon's new rival book Inigo the Brave.
And that was when Cura realized she forgot Joile and Rex outside of Ustengrav.
"It seems there are less spiders roaming the road these days..." Inigo expressed disappointment where the others would find relief. The group was travelling through the cold tundra soon enough.
Mjoll chuckled. "Maybe they're so scared of you they ran away." She poked lightheartedly.
Inigo turned around to face the Nord, and he scratched his chin in ponderation. "That is understandable, but annoying."
"You know what else is annoying-" Lydia began.
"Lydia, please." Cura raised her hand, cutting her off before she could quip at Inigo again.
Mjoll looked down as Inigo turned to walk ahead, when she noticed the glass jar with a Dragonfly in it hanging from the back of his belt. "And who's this? One of your comrades?" She asked out of curiosity.
"In the jar?" Inigo gestured toward sit. "Oh, that is Mr. Dragonfly! He is a big fan of yours."
Mjoll's eyes narrowed, a little perturbed and uncertain to whether or not he was playing around. "Are you joking?"
"No. He is a vital part of the team." Inigo defended the winged insect against scrutiny.
Mjoll held a hand to her mouth and let out a few giggles.
"Why are you laughing?" Inigo was taken aback. "You are acting crazy, Mjoll. Do not worry. Mr. Dragonfly does not hold it against you."
Mjoll stopped giggling, and her eyes widened. "By the gods, you're serious." Maybe this Khajiit was a little... special.
"Of course!" Inigo doubled down.
"Hmm." Mjoll gave it a little more thought before walking to the back of the group.
Cura eventually took a seat on a tree stump. She needed to calm herself, as her nerves were soaring like Cliff Racers. Inigo gleefully took a seat beside her. Now was a good time for a bit of rest. He took out a bottle of Argonian Bloodwine and began to drink.
"Where did you get Argonian Bloodwine?" Cura asked him, not recalling them buying any.
"Well, when we were at the Sleeping Giant..." Inigo began.
"You stole it from somebody? Inigo, we talked about this-" Cura began, but was quickly cut off.
"No, no! I did not steal it from somebody." Inigo reassured her. "I stole it from inside a chest. Not from a person."
"Oh Inigo..." Cura placed a hand on her forehead.
"Do you want some?" Inigo held the bottle up to her. "Don't mind the weird aftertaste... I think the Barkeep forgot about it."
"Er, no thank you." Cura waved a hand.
"Suit yourself." Inigo continued to drink from it. "But I admit you are not missing much."
"How am I doing, Inigo?" Cura asked him. "I want your honest opinion."
"You want me to assess you? Okay, I can do that." Inigo sat up straight. "Hmmm... let's see..."
He looked at Cura, and cleared his throat. "You smell like a wild beast today. No offense."
Cura pulled up her robe and smelled self-consciously. The death splattered over them certainly couldn't be helping, of course.
Inigo continued. "You are a precise killing machine with one-handed weapons. You are almost as skilled as me."
"Uh, huh." Cura nodded, taking the sidestepped compliment. "Continue." He was all right, but she thought he could do better, as well.
Inigo continued onwards. "You are a follower of the next person who tells you to do things. You need to work on your independence."
Cura nodded. She could not deny that. The Vigilants, the Companions, Delphine... she was a walking tool, it seemed.
"Trouble is your middle name. Mine is Collin." Inigo said with a grin.
"That's a fine name." Cura remarked.
"Thank you. Usually people laugh when they hear it." Inigo stated as Lydia chuckled against a nearby tree.
"Why? It's wonderful. It has an old world sort of charm." Cura validated.
"Yes, I think so. It comes from a longhaired, sword-wielding bookshop owner my parents knew. Colin the Librarian they called him." Inigo recalled fondly.
Cura smirked. Interesting. "Why did they name you after him?" She asked.
"He was a good man and very well-read. I suppose they hoped that I would achieve some of his wisdom." Inigo proposed. "Knowledge is hard work, though. Right, Lydia?"
"Watch it." The impatient Nord responded from a short distance away.
"So, back to my review?" Cura got of the tangent.
"Ah, yes! Where was I..." Inigo had lost his train of thought, but it came back sure enough. "The state of your mind may be up for debate, but your body is healthy. Try to keep it that way."
"State of my mind? What do you mean by that?" Cura asked defensively.
"Well, your life was saved by the very force that now threatens this land, and you may be the only one who can stop it. No pressure." Inigo shrugged. "I imagine you are probably overwhelmed,"
"You don't know the half of it." Cura sighed.
"What else... oh!" Inigo snapped his fingers. "More often than not you are polite and sincere."
Mjoll nodded in agreement as she sipped on Nord Mead and leaned against another tree.
"Two-handed weapons do not seem to suit you. I feel the same way. They are heavy and cumbersome." Inigo confessed.
He snapped his fingers again. "Oh, and you have great fashion sense!"
"Er... thanks?" Cura looked down at her robes. "They're pretty commonplace, though."
"When you get a compliment, you should take it." Inigo soured.
Cura nodded compliantly. "All right. Thank you!"
Inigo scratched his chin. "How to conclude... you are proving to be very good for Skyrim! You still need to travel a bit more, but you will soon bring this land to its best age. I just know it!"
"Thank you, Inigo." Cura smiled.
"No problem! If you ever want a review again, just ask! It is fun, judging people!" Inigo exclaimed with a laugh.
Cura stood up and continued the short walk around Ustengrav, where she could see Joile and Rex huddling together for warmth near a couple of rocks, sheltered from the snow. The Breton felt terrible seeing this.
"Joile, Rex!" She rushed over to the poor animals and gently held up an unloosed fire spell to provide them with warmth. "I'm so sorry! I wasn't thinking when I Fast Travelled us!"
"Next time, we'll have to hold onto them, too." Lydia stated.
Cura nodded fervently as she gently pet Joile. It was Keeper Carcette's Horse. Cura would not want anything to happen to him, and yet she was so careless. She was s angry and distracted by the missing Horn that she forgot completely.
She took out the plane Horn and looked at it, examining it well. "This was what all the trouble was for..."
"It... is surprisingly unimpressive." Lydia droned.
"I agree. It is nothing at all like how I expected it too look." Mjoll was disappointed.
"Still, it is what the Greybeards wanted." Cura noted its importance. "Let's bring the Horses back to Ivarstead, and then we'll go up High Hrothgar."
"Up the 7000 steps?" Mjoll seemed excited.
"There are 700-and-something." Lydia dismissed it. "Don't get your hopes up."
"Oh." Mjoll's face fell.
"Legends are like a good dressing on a boring salad." Inigo illustrated.
"Cura isn't a boring salad, that's for sure." Mjoll laughed heartily. "I'd heard tales of what the Dragonborn was capable of, but seeing it in person is so much more."
Cura blushed and hopped atop Joile, and invited Lydia to join her as Inigo and Mjoll hopped on Rex,
"I hope High Hrothgar will be breathtaking as the tales say." Mjoll wondered.
"It is." Lydia confirmed. "The stonework is ancient and amazing, and-well, you'll see when we get there. I'll let the environment speak for itself."
"Do they have windows? If so, that will be a big improvement!" Inigo joked.
"Stay close, now." Cura made sure that everyone was connected this time as she used the Fast Travel technique and brought them all to Ivarstead.
Lydia was heaving over the side. Somehow being on a Horse made the experience that much more nauseating.
Inigo, however, was riding the high from it and laughing. Mjoll managed to loose her breath.
"You know, Lydia; holding your breath helps." Mjoll informed her.
"No... no it doesn't..." Lydia went on all fours and retched.
Cura took the time to bring the Horses back to the stable, leading them by heir reins. She approached the Innkeeper. "Hello, I'm back from Riften!"
"Ah, you are! Look at that." The Innkeeper laughed. "And you still have your jewelry. Impressive, to say the least. I suppose you'll be boarding with us again?"
"Yes." Cura confirmed.
"Excellent." The Innkeeper clasped his hands together. "Enjoy your stay!"
At that moment, the Bard, Lynly Star-Sung came outside. "Wilhelm, we'll need to restock on some Black-Briar Mead... it's sold out already."
"Svidi! Is that you?" Mjoll called out to the Bard, which alarmed her.
Immediately, Cura turned to look at the Bard, who turned white as snow.
"No, I'm sorry. You must have me mistaken for someone else. I've never even heard that name before." The Bard tried to keep her cool.
Cura approached her, seeing through the obvious lie. Mjoll would recognize her, certainly. "You're Svidi, the ex-fiancée of Sibbi Black-Briar?"
Lynly, now revealed to be Svidi, had her back to the wall of the outer tavern.
"You have nothing to fear from me." Cura reassured her gently.
Wilhelm approached closer as Lynly began to beg fir her life before the Paladin. "Please, I beg you, don't tell Sibbi where I am. He'll kill me!"
"I won't, I promise." Cura said with a nod.
Lynly exhaled deeply, as though she had narrowly avoided a dagger to her throat. "Sibbi's been spreading lies about me, you must hear me out."
Cura said nothing; instead she simply deigned to listen.
Lynly turned to Cura, and to Mjoll, who would better understand the context. "Sibbi and I were to be married. We were supposed to be happy together forever. Then I found that wretched poetry from Svana. When I confronted Sibbi about it, he threatened to kill me. I was scared so I told my brother Wulfur. He went to talk to Sibbi for me and... and... Sibbi killed him. My brother wasn't even armed! When I heard what Sibbi did, I fled. Now you've found me, and you're going to tell him where I am."
"I swear upon my honour as a Vigilant of Stendarr." Cura flashed her Amulet for evidence. "Sibbi will hear no word from me. Or the others. Is that right?" She turned to Lydia, Mjoll, and Inigo, who all agreed.
"Sibbi is a worm, anyways." Inigo scoffed. "As far as I am concerned, he can choke on a Giant's toe."
"He can rot." Mjoll stated.
"Lady Mjoll... well... if you're travelling with her, i guess I can trust her..." Lynly mused, still a tad anxious.
"You didn't even trust me a moment ago." Mjoll chuckled.
"It's just... I know Sibbi has been poisoning people against me... I don't know whose ear he's bent, or whose palm he's greased," Lynly rubbed her left arm.
"Maybe you'd best move to another place." Cura informed her. "Skyrim is large, and Ivarstead is too close to Riften."
"She works for me." Wilhelm protested. "In exchange, I give her shelter, If she'll have to wear a mask, so be it; I don't want her wandering these dangerous fields, especially with the war going on."
Cura nodded. "I understand. Just... take care of yourself." She told Svidi. "And maybe switch from a Bard to a cleaning woman. Something where there will be less eyes on you."
"I like to sing." Lynly protested. "I am not going to give up my passion for paranoia."
"Suit yourself." Cura sighed, defeated. The woman was playing with fire, to be sure, but she had many tasks ahead, herself. "I'll see you around." She turned to walk towards the mountain, leaving the Innkeeper and Bard behind.
Mjoll gave them a friendly wave before following Cura on the trail.
After climbing the deceptively short 7000 steps, the group reached the cold cliffside before the Monastery. Mjoll ogled the sight, and Inigo nodded his head, inmpressed.
"Isn't it interesting that the Nords used to build complex buildings like this, and now they build their homes out of stones, ckay, and straw? What happened?" Inigo wondered.
"War happened." Lydia explained in one simple word.
"Ah, yes. The war." Inigo trailed. "What war?"
"The annoying one between the Empire and the Stormcloaks over the White-Gold Concordat." Lydia spoke dryly.
"Delphine thinks the Thalmor have something to do with the Dragons." Cura finally opened up.
"The Thalmor? I thought they were just angry elves who were snazzy-dressers." Inigo scratched his chin in surprise.
"Oh, so now you're going to tell us what that was about?" Lydia scoffed at Cura.
Cura stood at the door to High Hrothgar, and faced away from her friends. "I'm going to invade the Thalmor Embassy." She stated.
Mjoll, Lydia, and Inigo all looked at her bug-eyed.
"You can't be serious." Lydia stated.
"They may be hiding something that could point to the War, the Dragons, and their involvement." Cura admitted. "I can trust you all, right?" She was hesitant to five away further information.
"Of course!" Mjoll exclaimed.
"You can trust me with secrets-just not with Sweetrolls." Inigo said with a laugh.
Lydia crossed her arms. "My Thane, since I've been with you the longest, I should think you'd know me better by now."
"I do." Cura gave off a gentle smile, feeling reassured. "All right, so... Delphine is a Blade."
"She's a sword in Human form?" Inigo questioned. "Explains why she dresses so sharp." Mjoll gave him a high five and a smile for that silly pun.
"Ha-ha." Cura laughed mockingly. "No, not that kind of Blade. A Blade-as in, the Akavirii servants of the Emperor of old; their more recent iteration, where they wielded foreign swords and had cool helmets and plated indigo blue armour."
"Oh, wow!" Lydia exclaimed. "Here, in Skyrim?"
Cura held a finger up to her mouth and shushed Lydia. "Yes, here in Skyrim. She told me that the Blades served the earliest Dragonborns and had slain Dragons, and that we were essentially going to repeat history."
"So, your new boss is actually your servant?" Inigo scratched his tuft of fur on his left cheek.
"Yes." Cura responded.
"Does that put her above or below me, since I am your friend?" Inigo asked.
"I would put her below each one of you." Cura confessed. "She promised me Mead and did not deliver, and wants me to raid the Thalmor Embassy on my Birthday. Granted, she didn't know that, but the happenstance doesn't help matters between us. Tough, I suppose I won't hold it against her."
"Wait.. your Birthday is next week?" Lydia asked. "The 18th of Morningstar?"
Cura nodded bashfully. "It is."
"That blows!" Lydia grit her teeth in secondhand frustration, to which Cura nodded in agreement.
"Well, I'm willing to sacrifice my 17th birthday for the sake of preserving the realm." Cura stated as she pushed open the door. "Let's go inside."
Mjoll clapped her hands excitedly. This was unexplored territory for her; High Hrothgar! It was a Nord's dream come true to see the inside of such a renowned holy site. The interior itself blew her mind from the second she placed a foot in the entrance.
"Gods, forgive me my past sins and help me find my road to redemption." Inigo silently prayed as he slowly walked to the western corner of the large stone entrance hall. Lydia stood on the side opposite to him, and Mjoll knelt down for a second to say a prayer to Kynareth. Cura joined her momentarily, but stood up when the four Greybeards entered from the hallways.
Immediately, she took out the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller and presented it before Master Arngeir, with a coy smile.
"Ah! You've retrieved the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller. Well done." the frai old man gently took the Horn from Cura's hands and slowly walked over to the mantle centered between the stairs and rested it atop, before the large stone brazier. "You have now passed all the trials. It is time for us to recognize you fully as Dragonborn."
Lydia stared on in anticipation. Legends, History, Myths. Reality. She was present in the making of History, and it was her greatest honour as Housecarl. Cura deserved it, as well. The poor girl had worked so hard to come this far from the fresh-faced, sheepish little doll that first walked into Dragonsreach.
Mjoll was excited for her new friend, as well as impressed by all that was about to occur; this was what Tiber Septim himself underwent It was a truly momentous occasion, and she was more than happy to bear witness.
Inigo sat on the corner of the steps to get a closer view as he continued to finish his Argonian Bloodwine. "Knock them dead, Cura!" He exclaimed, and she turned to look at him in a manner to suggest he calm himself. Inigo obliged and continued to drink and watch.
"You are ready to learn the final word of Unrelenting Force, "Dah," which means 'Push.'" Arngeir stated as the Greybeards regrouped at the center of the main hall, around the sigil on the floor.
Wulfgar took a step forward and whispered. "Dah..." the word etched itself into the stone floor, blazing.
Inigo looked on in wonder at the sheer impossibility of such a thing.
"With all three words together, this Shout is much more powerful. Use it wisely. Master Wulfgar will now gift you with his knowledge of 'Dah.'" Arngeir informed as the other Greybeard sent waves of wisdom to Cura.
Dah.
Push.
What is a push, exactly? A force that moves another out of its path.
A mighty gale, that moves a mountain.
A wind, that moves the snow.
A gentle touch that moves a paper.
A mighty thrust that knocks a shield away.
Force, Balance, Push.
Fus Ro Dah.
Cura hurried outside into the courtyard, and turned her face up o the sky. She had to test it . "FUS RO DAH!"
Her voice thundered as the sky itself, with enough force to rattle the building behind her. A large thunderclap shredded the air in a wave of destructive might.
Lydia, Inigo, and Mjoll exchanged surprised glances when they saw the spectacle, having followed her outside. Mjoll developed goosebumps, and Lydia's heart was frozen. Inigo jumped up and down like an excited Troll and cheered.
"Go, Cura! That was amazing!" Inigo shouted excitedly.
Cura continued to stare into the sky as the snow began to fall in its natural, undisturbed flow. She could see her breath rising in a plume of white mist. She smiled proudly and outstretched her arms.
She did it.
She actually did it.
She completed her first Thu'um.
An excited grin spread across her face. "Did... did you all see that?" She asked her friends.
"It was truly amazing! Well done." Mjoll applauded.
Lydia nodded. "You've worked hard, my Thane. I'm proud of what we've managed to accomplish."
"Do it again! Do it again!" Inigo exclaimed.
"Dragonborn, now that you've tested your Thu'um, it is time for the ceremony." Arngeir stood at the doorway, much like a parent expecting their child to stop playing and come inside.
Cura quickly followed the old man back inside the monastery, and her companions followed as well, Mjoll closing the door on the way in.
"You have completed your training, Dragonborn. We would Speak to you. Stand between us, and prepare yourself. Few can withstand the unbridled Voice of the Greybeards. But you are ready." Arngeir sifnalled for Cura to stand at the center of the sigil on the ground while the Greybeards stood in a circle once more.
Cura humbly lowered her head. "I am ready." She closed her eyes, and then they began, voices thundering in a ruckus so great that the world itself seemed to rumble and quake before each word.
"Lingrah krosis saraan Strundu'ul,
voth nid balaan klov praan nau.
Naal Thu'umu, mu ofan nii nu, Dovahkiin,
naal suleyk do Kaan, naal suleyk do Shor,
ahrk naal suleyk do Atmorasewuth.
Meyz nu Ysmir, Dovahsebrom.
Dahmaan daar rok."
The thunderous voices strode power upon the land.
Jarl Balgruuf sat upon his throne, discussing the matters of Whiterun's economy, when he heard the roaring, mighty voice span over the castle. He looked to the members of his court, and they all had a feeling regarding the significance of such an event.
Ulfric Stormcloak, at his banquet table, was halted upon the sound of voices most familiar, echoing over the Palace of Kings.
The Thieves Guild went above ground to see what was happening while the citizens of Riften stared with awe, and trepidation.
At Castle Dour, in Solitude, Legate Rikke and General Tullius were only just on their way to the Blue Palace when they were alarmed by the powerful voice in the sky.
Sven was walking with Camilla through the small town when the voice reached them, over the clouds. Immediately, they knew that their friend had made it after all.
The Thalmor Justiciars alerted their boss, Elenwen, of the phenomenon. All felt a sense of unease to what this could signify in the frigid North, but they would maintain order regardless.
Vilkas sat outside of Jorrvaskr, on the front steps when he heard the booming voice. Immediately, thoughts of Cura entered his mind. How was she doing at this point, he wondered with a forlorn sigh.
Calcelmo was disturbed from his research by the thunderous noise.
Keeper Carcette was snapped out of her meditative prayer when the voice sundered the clouds. Brother Adalvald and Vigilant Tolan cheered with excitement. The other Vigilants stood outside, looking upwards towards the celestial realm above. The sky reflected a beautiful pink and green aroura.
"She did it!" Brother Adalvald exclaimed proudly.
"What? What's going on?" Keeper Carcette asked fearfully. "What on Nirn was that?"
"Cura was recognized by the Greybeards." Tolan put it simply.
Keeper Carcette was awestruck. All she could bring herself to do was look up at the whirling night sky and the vibrant colours within it. "Cura..." she muttered softly. A pride filled the Keeper, in a way.
All of Skyrim became witness to History.
The air fell into an equilibrium, as it calmed down.
Cura stood firm, but Inigo and the others were wincing as they covered their ears.
"Dovahkiin. You have tasted the Voice of the Greybeards, and passed through unscathed. High Hrothgar is open to you." Arngeir was proud to state.
"Thank you so much, Master Arngeir." Cura beamed. "But I have to ask on my friends' behalf... why did it involve Shouting onto me?"
"We spoke the traditional words of greeting to a Dragonborn who has accepted our guidance. The same words were used to greet the young Talos, when he came to High Hrothgar, before he became the Emperor Tiber Septim." Arngeir confirmed the History books.
"What did you actually say?" Cura asked. Admittedly, she did not catch most of it, given the thunderous nature of the Shout that obscured the words.
Arngeir stroked his beard acceptingly. "Ah. I sometimes forget you are not versed in the dragon tongue as we are. This is a rough translation:
"Long has the Stormcrown languished, with no worthy brow to sit upon."
"By our breath we bestow it now to you in the name of Kyne, in the name of Shor, and in the name of Atmora of Old."
"You are Ysmir now, the Dragon of the North, hearken to it."
Cura was iimpressed. It was quite poetic. "I am honoured." She admitted humbly.
Before Arngeir could leave, Cura spoke up once more. "I'd like to learn more about the Voice."
"You have learned so much already, Dragonborn. Growing your gift too quickly would be dangerous. " Arngeir stated. "For now, meditate on what you've already learned, and hone your voice to perfection. Then, you will be ready to learn a new Shout."
Cura accepted his judgment. "All right. I will meditate on what I've learned thus far." She stated. "But I won't hide my excitement of the prospect of learning more of the Way of the Voice." Truly, in those brief moments of meditation, she felt at peace.
"You will, when the time is right. Go in peace, Dragonborn. Sky above, voice within." Arngeir went back to his meditation.
"Sky above, voice within." Cura repeated with a bow before she headed to the door. She completed her initial training, and was now recognized as the Dragonborn all through Skyrim. Life was good.
Mjoll put her arm around Cura's shoulders. "This calls for a celebration, friend!" She exclaimed. "Pick any tavern you want, and we will go there."
"Well, we're at Ivarstead." Cura reminded her. "The Vilemyr Inn is right there."
"Sure thing. And I'm sure Lynly and Wilhelm will not mind giving us a discount for being so kind." Mjoll stated.
It did seem like a good proposition. "All right. It sounds good. Let's do it!"
Mjoll cheered happily and gave Cura a gentle friendly push, causing the Breton to lighten up.
"You know, I've been thinking..." Inigo began as Cura headed to the door. "I wonder if I could ever grow such an exquisite beard."
Lydia seemed rattled by the Voice, and Inigo called out to her. "Lydia? Lydia..."
"Hello? Where are you?" Lydia seemed delirious as she searched frantically for the source of the voice.
"Over here. I am the blue thing talking to you." Inigo waved his hands to catch her attention.
"The blue thing..?" Lydia tried to think straight. "Oh, hi. It's very nice to meet you."
Inigo turned to look at Cura, and he swirled his index finger on the side of his head before turning back to the maddened Lydia. "Likewise. Are you feeling OK? You seem distracted."
"Ummmm... what were we talking about?" Lydia was dazed beyond belief.
"I was just saying you seem a bit distracted." Inigo restated.
"I am. I've got some fresh cabbage. I'm thinking of making some apple-cabbage stew." Lydia grinned from ear to ear, out of her mind. It seemed terminal.
"OK, I will leave you to your thoughts." Inigo backed away with his hands up, then he looked to Mjool and whispered. "This one is crazy, I think."
"Maybe I'll do turnips next... or maybe radishes?" Lydia continued to nonsensically ponder.
"I hope her sword arm works better than her head. Geeesh." Inigo turned to Cura, and she chuckled in response.
Lydia seemed to be coming out of her funk, if for no other reason than due to anger. "Why you! Hmph!" She crossed her arms and snubbed the blue cat.
The quartet walked down the less than 7000 steps, beelining straight for the Inn.
The Inn was empty, save for a couple of farmers and their daughter.
When they got in, Wilhelm spoke immediately. "Hey, did you by any chance hear the voice in the sky? It spooked all the animals."
"Heard it? Cura was in the center of it!" Mjoll exclaimed.
"Wait... you're the..." Wilhelm looked at the Breton nearly cross-eyed. "No... you're the Dragonborn?"
Cura nodded. "I was recognized by the Greybeards. That... was the thunderous booming sound."
Wilhelm looked at her friends, who confirmed her claim.
"I don't know why, but I believe you. You're the only one who's been coming and going off that mountaintop in years." Wilhelm stated as he pulled out a Nord Mead. "Here, first one's on the house."
"Thank you." Cura graciously accepted as Inigo pulled up a seat beside her.
Lynly overheard the statement, and decided which song she was going to perform. "This is an ode to our friend, the Dragonborn." She began.
"Our hero, our hero, claims a warriors heart
I tell you, I tell you, the Dragonborn comes
With a voice wielding power of the ancient Nord arts
Believe, believe, the Dragonborn comes
It's an end to the evil, of all Skyrim's foes
Beware, beware, the Dragonborn comes
For the darkness has passed
And the legend yet grows
You'll know, you'll know
The Dragonborn's come"
With a few more strums, the song ended on a gentle note. Cura decided to humour it. "FEIM!" She demonstrated her least destructive Shout in accordance to the song. The people around gasped when they saw her become transparent before their very eyes.
"Showoff." Inigo pouted, which caused Cura to snicker.
Mjoll paid for the next few rounds of drinks for everyone, and they would go on to eat, drink, and be merry for the rest of the night.