Nothing Goes Wrong Trapping The Dragon

"Ap bap bap bap bap! You're not listening to me." Elisif leaned forwards in her throne, brandishing the scroll with one hand.

Standing in front of her, Erikur looked very much like he'd rather be somewhere else. "But, my Jarl—"

"Erikur, you are possibly the richest person in this city right now, and that includes me. You're doing just fine." Elisif leaned closer. "So, you are going to take this bill away, and you are going to think very carefully about if you want to draft a new one, because if you try to push another piece of legislature through my court that will damage the livelihoods of this city's workers, I don't know what I'll do to you."

We'll douse his wardrobe in oil, then set him on fire when he next shows up to court!

Thank you, Potema, but I think it's a little more intimidating if we leave that unsaid.

Oh, right, the subtle approach. Okay.

Erikur certainly looked intimidated, bowing and taking the paper back. "Thank you, my Jarl, sorry, my Jarl. I'll, er—"

"Go. I allocated five minutes for this meeting and you've already taken three."

Erikur didn't need much prompting, scurrying backwards and away from the throne.

Elisif sighed, leaning backwards.

…I miss Dulur—

You miss Dulurza, I know, girl, I know! Potema's voice was exasperated. You've only thought that five thousand times in the last two weeks.

I can't help thinking it!

No, but you don't have to think it where I can hear it!

Which, admittedly, was true. They were both getting very proficient at only 'voicing' the thoughts that they actually wanted to.

I'm sorry. It's just…really lonely in the Blue Palace at the moment. Elisif sighed, looking around. The only people in the hall right now were the two guards downstairs, and Bolgier hovering at her side. She offered him a smile, which he almost returned. Dulurza's gone, Cassia's gone, Falk's gone—and I can only be glad the latter isn't in the same way as the two former.

You hope. Potema countered. I mean, Dulurza went to go maybe wake up a Dragon, and she hasn't sent you a bird recently, so—

"Not. Helping." Elisif grit out, aloud.

Potema caught the hint and shut up. Bolgier glanced at her, but at this point was so used to the antics he didn't even question them.

"Sorry." She said, sighing. "Bolgier, who's next on the meetings list?"

"How about you use this peacetime to get a new steward, my Jarl?" He asked, pointedly, reaching for a scroll next to his waist.

"Sorry. I'm aware it's not among your normal duties."

"Aye, aye…" Bolgier squinted at the page. "Right, you just did the blond prat, which means the next is—Oh no."

"DARLING!"

Elisif's head snapped back towards the stairs, and she just barely suppressed a groan. First Emissary Elenwen strutted up the stairs, smiling from ear to ear.

"Elenwen!" Elisif also greeted, pointedly not standing. "It's so good to see you."

"Isn't it? Eight Divines, I haven't seen you since the wedding! You know the one with the brutal murder?" Elenwen sighed wistfully, coming to a stop a few feet from the throne. "I'm so glad I was in town so we could talk. But look at you, summoning me. Me! Awfully presumptuous, you cheeky thing!"

"Yes, well, you can't back me as High Queen while refusing to treat me like one." Elisif paused. "Oh wait, you can and you have, so I'm glad you at least lacked the audacity to avoid this meeting…"

Nice one.

Thanks.

"Because you see, I had a question to ask you."

Elenwen's face was the picture of slightly confused innocence. "Oh? And what might that be?"

"Well, there are a lot of reports that pass over my desk these days." Elisif steepled her fingers. "Peace, as you can imagine, is almost as busy as war."

"Oh, it's only a temporary ceasefire." Elenwen waved her hand. "Don't worry, we'll be back after those rebels soon enough."

"See, that dismissive attitude of yours concerns me." Elisif leaned forwards. "Because I've heard that Thalmor troops are massing at your Embassy in unprecedented numbers."

"Well, you've told us that we aren't allowed to police half the country." Elenwen shrugged. "A lot of our forces have had to be recalled, and we're still planning how to allocate them until the war resumes."

"And that plan calls for marching them south?"

Elenwen went very still.

Elisif remained seated, smiling benignly.

"Darling, I am afraid I have no idea what you mean." Elenwen said, her expression now missing all its previous warmth.

"Then I'm afraid your soldiers are moving without your permission." Elisif showed her teeth. "Would you like the assistance of the Imperial army in quelling them?"

"With the greatest of respects, Jarl Elisif the Fair…" Elenwen paused, as though weighing her words, "How in the name of Auriel's left testicle do you know what my forces are doing?"

"You aren't the only one with an intelligence network." Elisif replied.

And by intelligence network, you mean 'us personally sneaking out in the dead of night to investigate things'.

Hey, you've been bored as well! And what's the point of a ghost giving me magic if I can't use it on my enemies?

"Is that so." Elenwen tapped one foot. Then shrugged, turning on her heel. "Well, let them look. I'm still not obligated to actually explain anything. Now, if all you wish to do is show off your own spies, I'll be—"

"Are you going to attack anything with those fighters of yours?" Elisif said, bluntly.

"Doing so would void your little truce, so—"

"See that isn't a no, is it, First Emissary?"

Elenwen paused, and looked back. There was a flash of very real annoyance in her eyes. "…If I was, impudent girl, then I would have taken into account the consequences, wouldn't I?"

"One of which being that I would take your empty body and stuff it?" Elisif snapped, rising to her feet. "Have you taken that consequence into account?"

Behind her, Bolgier drew the first inch of steel from his sword's sheath.

Elenwen stared at her for a long few seconds. Then walked away.

…Hot damn girl! Potema's appreciative tone broke the silence. I didn't even need to advise you on that one, you just came out with it!

Elisif turned, meeting Bolgier's eyes. "Organise as many guards as can be spared from the city's reserves."

"Uh—What?" He spluttered.

"I mean, get me a force that's loyal to me, and get them on horseback ready to move. We're leaving."

To his credit, Bolgier didn't hesitate. "Of course. It will take me a day or so, but—Wait, we? What are we doing?"

Elisif glared towards the front door, and Elenwen's trail.

"Intervening."

̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶{o ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶͜͡| ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ Ϫ 8˂

Anyone who's ever tried to trap a dragon soul with a group of genii (or, just, done a sheet of maths homework), will tell you that it's an alternating mix of rapid progress and impenetrable roadblocks.

But even if one knew that intellectually, they'd still be shocked by how easy it was to prepare for the first test, once the Meteuse siblings had figured out what they were doing.

It was midday. Tirdas. If reports from Whiterun were accurate, this was the day the Dragonborn would be calling a Dragon to Dragonsreach.

(After saying it so much for several weeks, 'Dragon' had ceased to sound like a real word.)

In the Drajkmyr Marsh north of Morthal, there was a group of people preparing to attempt an amusingly similar process. Dulurza, Hjar, Margret, and L'laarzen were all stood at the ready; fed, stretched, equipped and warmed up. They had positioned themselves to the sides and back of Vulbahlok's corpse (which itself had been strapped to the ground by a set of restraints, both magical and physical). The four Meteuse siblings were stood at the front, about twenty paces away from the Dragon's head.

Between them, held in a stone vice transfigured by Julius, was the Left Eye of the Falmer. L'laarzen insisted it was the left eye, and nobody else could figure out how she knew or if she was just making it up. They were making final preparations, which here meant 'pointlessly fluttering about looking over things they'd already checked'. Realistically, there was only one thing left to discuss.

"So…who casts the spell?" Cassia asked.

They'd all learned the 'Akatoshi Soul Trap' that the sisters had put together. At the end of the day, it was just an expert level restoration spell, and all of them could learn that in a weekend without any trouble.

"You're the best at restoration?" Xander offered.

"Yeah, normal restoration." Cassia shrugged, awkwardly. "It's Octavia who's got the most experience with this sort of conjuration."

"Yes, normal conjuration." Octavia fired her own words back at her. "This madness is new to all of us." She glanced at Julius. "You should do it. This was your idea."

Julius didn't provide an actual protest to that. He just looked at Xander. "It should be you."

"M—Me?" Xander blinked, pointing at himself. "Wait, am I not the least—" He glanced at Cassia "—second least qualified person to do this?"

"Hey!" Cassia protested.

"You configured this." Julius tapped the top of the diamond, now glinting slightly unnaturally, "And you were leading the theory on all of this. And the soul is your domain, after all."

Xander gulped, and tried "But are you sure you don't want to—"

"I'm sure." Julius nodded. "Unless you don't think you can do it?"

"No, no, I can do it." Xander gulped. "And hey, if it all goes wrong, we can all have a try, right?"

"If it all goes wrong, we might be dead!" Cassia said, cheerily.

"It's not going to—You know what? Whatever. Julius, gimme a hand." Xander pulled out the Staff of Magnus in a practised motion, and touched the tip to Julius' extended palm.

Can't hurt to have a boosted magicka reservoir for this…just in case. He thought, taking enough power for a few solid fireballs and a 'conjure dremora'.

Julius just nodded, seemingly unbothered by the energy steal. "Good luck."

"We're already praying to a Divine, let's not bring luck into this." Octavia countered, giving Xander a reassuring pat on the shoulder before moving into position.

"Yeah, what she said! You've got this!" Cassia raised her hand, and Xander gave her a high-five, smiling.

And then he was suddenly out of excuses to delay.

"Hoo, boy…" He breathed out, standing behind the Eye and looking at the Dragon. Vulbahlok had been intimidating enough when he was alive, but Xander's imagination was now helpfully supplying him with images of a giant winged zombie lizard darting forward and snapping him up.

I'll be fine. I've got Julius here. And it's not going to come to life.

"Final check, we all good?" Xander called out.

"Ready!" Called Octavia, then Cassia, then his other allies as they shifted into alert mode. Once all were confirmed, Xander gulped, and pulled the magicka to his hands.

The spell was a weird one. Contradictory. He was making a connection to the Aetherius, but didn't want his target to go there. Using his power that had once been Julius' power to manipulate the sun's power into taking hold of the Dragon's power. Golden-purple light sparked between his palms, grew, and solidified, a spinning orb of light and dark in his hands.

He held it for just long enough to confirm it was stable. Offered up one last prayer to anyone who was listening. Then blasted the light forwards.

The energy flew forwards, striking the Dragon on the side of the neck—

—Click—

What?

And there was a connection.

Xander gasped at the familiar voice, but didn't have time to worry about it because it was working! The light of the spell swirled all around the Dragon, within the Dragon, and then before all their eyes…

It's body started to flake away.

What was left of its scales, flesh, and eyes started to burn, and light began flowing backwards towards Xander, red-white-gold energy that Xander had never seen before, but he'd collected enough first-hand accounts to recognise hysterically that this was what happened when the Dragonborn did it!

"Alex!" Julius shouted. "Eye!"

Right, yes, the soul gem, because the process had only just started and Xander was already starting to feel overwhelmed by the energy coming out of the beast.

He slapped both his hands on the Eye of the Falmer and focused. This was the part he did know, channelling energy in and out of soul gems was his entire thing, and so as the Dragon's body evaporated around its skeleton, and it's soul flowed over to him, Alexander Meteuse poured that power into the waiting receptacle.

His vision started to blur and go white, and he wasn't sure if that was because something was going wrong with him or because the process was just so damn hot and bright, and oh bugger it was hot, the surface of the gem had gone from pleasantly cool to blistering and the palms of his hands were in pain but he couldn't stop because the process was almost over and he wasn't sure what would happen if he let it break down now—

"Xander look out!" Someone shouted—

And then there was an almighty BOOM.

Xander woke up on the ground about ten feet away from the gem, his back offering muffled complaints and his hands offering loud, profanity-filled ones. His field of view was filled with faces.

"Xander?" They were all speaking, but Dulurza was the loudest. "You good, friend?"

"Ngh…" He grunted. Then, his eyes widening, "Did it work?"

"Are you alive?" Cassia countered, but he waved them all away and sat up, groaning and squinting.

There were only two people who weren't crowding around him; Octavia and Julius were both tensely pointing spells at the crystal in its pedestal. It was easy to see why.

The Left Eye of the Falmer was glowing. Not the normal, dim glow that even grand soul gems gave off; it was radiating a rainbow of light in all directions that outshone the midday sun.

Behind it, lay the Dragon. Dead as a…dead thing. It was dead. Only it's skeleton remained, matching exactly scenes Xander had seen in Whiterun and elsewhere. It looked just like the Dragonborn had come through the area.

"Did it work?" Octavia called, "Or do I need to shoot this?"

"Do not shoot that!" Xander gasped, stumbling to his feet with the help of Hjar and L'laarzen. "Guys, I'm fine, really, let me see it."

"Not if it's going to burn you to death!" Cassia had already taken his hands, and was rubbing her fingers across his scorched palms, restoration magic soothing the stinging red flesh. "Be careful, dumbass!"

"I'm always careful!"

"You've never been careful once in your life." Dulurza retorted.

"A little faith would be nice once in a while. I'm not going to go kiss the thing." Xander sighed, stepping closer to it. "Just…hang on a second."

"Xander don't—"

He reached out and touched a fingertip to the gem.

His mind promptly exploded for the second time in as many minutes.

—Vulbahlok Was, and the first second passed. For he was of Akatosh/Auri-El/Alkosh, the god of Time, and as such he knew Time, and had existed as soon as Time had began and would exist in some form until the end of Time, when Alduin, greatest aspect of Akatosh/Auri-El/Alkosh, bid Time end. Until then, he was free—

—They called themselves the Aedra, and Akatosh/Auri-El/Alkosh was at their head, he and Lorkhan/Shor/Lorkh/Sheor/Lorkhaj/Shezarr/Sep, and they together put themselves into the world, and so came Nirn—

—Who are you? What are these primitive names you have for things? Why do you not understand the words of your own thought?—

—The world was Nirn, and so the Dovah fashioned for themselves bodies fit for Nirn, cages for their souls, and lo they were majestic and powerful, and lo they (Bo) flew—

—Flying, flying high (Bo), high above the lands of Nirn where the weak mortals tread, flying free of obligation and fear, for they were immortal, unending, and Time could not touch them, the world could not control them. So why should they not own it? Should the world not belong to them, they who were above all but the Gods themselves?—

—Rage. The mortals resisted, they were young and foolish and pathetic and they fought against their betters, and so Vulbahlok fought them, fought them with tooth and claw and fire, and—

—S O m eth e somethinghappened but he could not understand it, the Words from the mouths of these mortals did not make Sense, they tore at his very nature, oh, what twisted, vicious, monstrous creatures these Men must be to bring such spiteful thoughts to Words—

—Are you the Dovahkiin? I did not think you could be. Yet you speak our tongue, and now you have taken my soul into you. Traitor-kin! Why did father Akatosh bid you exist?—

—Sleep, the long sleep, as his scales rotted and his bones bleached and his body was entombed by the Men who had killed him, but he remained, for he would always remain, so long as there was Time there would be Vulbahlok, for he was Dovah, and the Dovah Were—

—Slen Tiid Vo! Such glorious words! Alduin freed Vulbahlok from the long sleep, returned him to the world, and (Bo) he could fly again, the world was his again, he could have his revenge against the petty mortals who had hurt him, who had dared take so much Time that he would have enjoyed—

—No…No, you are not Dovah. You remain only a defiler! What menace have you wrought upon this world? The broken, incomplete thoughtmagic of the Mer can now seal our souls? Alduin was right, you Men have become far, far too greedy in your ambition!—

—The little village of Men was defended! Good! Vulbahlok relished the battle, the chance to once again rend mortal flesh, burn mortal homes, take to battle and bring submission of his enemies! But what was this? A Man speaking the language of the Dovah? Not those awful Words that had rent him from the sky, that had taken his (Bo) flight away from him, but Words nonetheless, and he challenged Vulbahlok to fair combat! He was weak, they all were weak, but there were many, and they stank of poison and Hircine and Nocturnal and Meridia and tenacity and his vessel's blood was spilled upon the ground, no, no not again! Not the long sleep once more!—

—You are a fool. The wrath Alduin will bear for my repeated failure will be nothing compared to his wrath for you, or my own! Begone from my mind, defiler! Once I (BO) can fly again, you will experience suffering unimaginable! BEGONE!—

The connection split, and Xander stumbled backwards with a strangled gasp.

"WHAT DID I JUST SAY?" Cassia demanded, slapping him round the back of the head. "Please tell me you didn't just get possessed!"

"How…how long was I doing that?" Xander asked, voice hoarse.

"No time at all." Hjar filled in. "A second or so, why?"

A second? It had felt like he'd just blitzed through the entire history of time. Xander shook his head, trying to grasp the thoughts swirling through it.

"I think…I think I just read a Dragon's mind." He said, the magnitude of the event slowly dawning on him. "I was…I talked to it."

"Did it hurt you?" Julius asked, slowly relaxing his posture.

"No. It made me leave, but…no; I left because it told me to, that's not the same thing. It couldn't keep me out." Xander looked back to the gem. Shakily raised a finger, and pointed it. "That…is a Dragon's soul. And a Dragon's knowledge, and a Dragon's power. It's all in there. And I can access it all."

He looked between his friends, scarcely believing the words coming out of his mouth. "We…we did it?"

It took a second for everyone else to react. Then the cheering started.

"We did it!"

"Yes!"

"WOOOO!"

"I knew it would work—"

"I cannot believe that worked—"

"Thank the DIVINES—"

"Meteuse squad whoop whoop!"

"Does this mean I can put the axe down now?"

o ̶ ̶̶| ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶̶

Lydia supposed she shouldn't have been surprised by how easy it was to trap a Dragon.

She was stood outside the front of Dragonsreach when the first Shout happened. "ODAHVIING!", echoing through the air and the stone beneath her feet, audible even with the closed palace between her and the Dragonborn. She didn't move when she heard it, resolutely keeping her gaze on the city of Whiterun and not looking back. He didn't need her, after all. He didn't need any of them. So why should she even be there?

Of course, a few minutes later, she saw the silhouette of a Dragon swooping down from the East. And she was moving without her brain having time to object.

Even though Lydia started sprinting immediately, she wasn't fast enough. While still in the entryway, she heard the Dragonborn Shout again, "JOOR ZAH FRUUL!". She'd never actually heard Dragonrend before, and the words made her stumble; something about them echoing within her soul and reminding her just how fragile her own life really was. But that feeling was familiar to everyone living in Skyrim these days, and she quickly shook it off. Odahviing was clearly having a much worse time, as its bestial roars of anguish accompanied the crash of it landing. There was the muffled sounds of battle, and the entire keep shook around her. Then there was a very final sounding thud.

By the time she pushed open the doors to the balcony, it was already over. The Dragon trapped beneath a great wooden contraption, and the Dragonborn standing right in front of it. If he noticed Lydia come in, he didn't show it.

"Horvutah med kodaav. Caught like a bear in a trap..." Odahviing rumbled, and Lydia put her hand on her sword hilt, gulping. The last time she'd heard a Dragon speak, it had been Alduin himself.

It fixed it's gaze on the Dragonborn, growling something else in its own language. DB snarled something back, and it tilted its head.

"You wish for these mortals to understand us? Rinik Pruzah. Very well. Tell me, Dovahkiin: Why am I still alive? Do you seek to mock me?"

"I need answers." The Dragonborn responded. "Alduin. He fled to Sovngarde. I need to know how."

"Zu Koraav. As I expected, then." Odahviing snapped its teeth, making Lydia (if not the Dragonborn) flinch. "Alduin warned us that you might seek to follow him before he was ready. Hmph. 'Ready'. In old times, for the first son to run away with his Viing tucked would be unthinkable. But then, that was before any of us met you."

"Tell me." The Dragonborn demanded, his voice taking on some of the draconic oomph of his quarry as he did so.

"Alduin bid us do no such thing."

DB drew his sword.

"Hmph…" Odahviing chuckled, lowly. "And therein lies the problem. You are not as we expected you to be, Dovahkiin."

DB tilted his head slightly.

"Your kind is known to us. It was foretold by father Akatosh; that Dov would be born into the bodies of Men to fulfil great purpose. Or to stand against us should we displease him. One such Dovahkiin, Miraak, appeared during our reign. But he was defeated by his fellow mortals. Others have appeared throughout your history, and were told to us by the few Dovah that survived. All were understood as kin, and either we slew them or bowed to their might. But you…you are different."

"How." DB said, flatly.

"Morah. Bahlok." Odahviing said. "Focus, and hunger. Your determination to consume us. There are no stories of you, Dovahkiin, for none have survived meeting you. Save Alduin, who had little to say. Your ruthlessness has caused great Faas among our kind."

"Get to the point." The Dragonborn growled, stepping closer.

Odahviing shifted in its restraints, and its voice began to almost sound desperate. "We thought you a Dovah, one with aspirations to overthrow Alduin and take his place. We would have bowed to you, if you could succeed. But your slaughter has caused us to wonder if that is really your desire. Or if, instead, you simply wish to consume all of us."

Lydia, who had been creeping around as silently could, was now positioned so that she could see the Dragonborn's face. He looked…almost disturbed by the accusation.

"Does it matter?" He asked.

"I would be willing to take you to Alduin, for I doubt his worthiness to rule. But not if you intend to bring an end to the Dov!" Odahviing thrashed in its restraints. "To carry our entire species within you to the Aetherius!"

"If you defy me, you'll die anyway." DB replied, flatly.

"I was prepared to die to test myself against you, Dovahkiin; your challenge was not one I could ignore. I would die to protect my kin, as well. Though…" It's tail swiped through the air, "I confess I do not wish to. Not trapped and helpless like this."

"I don't plan to destroy you all." The Dragonborn replied, and Lydia noticed his fists were clenched. "I don't want any of this. Only to stop you taking over Skyrim, or burning it to the ground."

"So said Paarthurnax, when my curiosity bade me visit him." Odahviing huffed. "Yet I find myself doubting if the old one is not mad, or so consumed with hatred for his own kind he would eagerly set you upon us."

"I swear I will not bring the Dragons to extinction." DB insisted, bringing a fist to his chest.

Odahviing tilted its head. "Swear it in our tongue."

The Dragonborn hesitated, but repeated his declaration in words Lydia couldn't understand. Strangely, though they were in the Dragon's language, they didn't seem to carry the same meaning as his Shouts, or even Odahviing's speech in Tamrielic.

The Dragon seemed to think the same, growling angrily. "Bah. Your words lack conviction, Dovahkiin. It seems not even you know who you are. I find myself wondering if the certainty of Alduin's Nivahriin is a better choice than your aimless power."

"You yourself called me focused." DB protested.

"On your goal, yes. But that goal is but words to you, and I suspect that those words ring hollow the more you think on them. Why fight us, if you are one of us? Tell me, Dovahkiin. When you have defeated Alduin and find yourself purposeless, what will you do? What will you make your next target?"

Something that almost resembled a dark smile appeared on Odahviing's face. "You and Alduin both consume souls, hunter-kin. This calper can end, if he wishes it; did it not occur to you that you could do the same?"

There was a deathly silence in the hall.

The Dragonborn stared at the Dragon, his jaw working. Then he opened his mouth—

"He wouldn't!"

Lydia wondered for a second who had spoken, then realised that it was her, and that everyone in the room (including the two superbeings) were now staring at her.

She pushed on regardless.

"He would never bring this world to an end," she insisted, "and he wouldn't kill all the Dragons if he didn't have to, he wouldn't have killed anyone if he didn't have to! He cares about us!" She turned slightly, focusing on DB's face.

"And no matter what he's gone through, even if he's a royal ass sometimes, even if he doesn't remember who he is anymore, I know. He's doing this because…because he wants to help! That's all it is!"

She ran out of steam, sucking in a deep breath and closing her mouth. Right in time to be absolutely mortified at her behaviour. The Dragonborn was staring at her like he'd never stared before, looking confused, touched, and self-conscious all at once. And Odahviing…

A low chuckle echoed throughout the hall, as the Dragon's claws scratched at the floor. "Do you hear that, Dovahkiin? This little mortal speaks with more certainty in her guttural tongue than you do in ours. You have at least convinced her that your intentions are noble. Perhaps she should fly you to Skuldafn."

The Dragonborn blinked (he had, throughout the entire speech, just been staring at Lydia), and turned back to Odahviing. "Do you mean…"

"Geh. I will help you. But be warned: Journeying to Sovngarde is no easy thing…"

̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶{o ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶͜͡| ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ Ϫ 8˂

It took a few minutes for the immediate celebration to die down and the actual, proper celebration to start. People pulled up tables around the Dragon and the crystal, laughing together, preparing to eat a late lunch and generally working out the relief of not having to fight a Dragon after all.

Cassia, Octavia, and Julius (and then everyone else, once they realised it was safe) all also tried touching the gem. But strangely, none of them were able to get the same connection that Xander had with just physical contact. Not that that was a massive obstacle, since they had built a spell specifically for channeling the Dragon's power out of it.

Suddenly, all four Meteuse siblings had free and exclusive access to one of the greatest power stores on Mundus.

It was as giddying as it sounded.

Julius, true to his word, came out with a bottle of Golden Pear Ale and handed it off to Octavia, who started pouring people glasses.

"You know I shouldn't drink, Julius." Xander warned, though the grin didn't leave his face. "If I get drunk I will find a way to crack that thing open and let the Dragon out."

"Oh I know, I was there for the Incident with the Chicken Feathers." Julius chuckled, before snapping his fingers. "Oh, wait, I've got something for this. Come with me a sec? Octavia, can you…"

"I'm handling it." Octavia rolled her eyes. "Suppose once I lose my job completely I can still become a serving girl…"

"You just saved the world, Captain. Or, Commander." Margret pointed out, laughing. "I'm sure you'll be able to find gainful employment. Now shut up and pour!"

"Hey! None of that sass from you, agent!"

Xander stood, following Julius away from the party. Once again, his elder brother led him out past the shack into a more wooded area of the marsh.

"What are we going to get exactly?" Xander asked, picking his way across the unstable ground.

"We're not getting anything." Julius answered. "We're having a secret conversation."

"Oh." Xander blinked. "Oh, okay."

"You alright?"

"Yeah, just, switching out of relax mode and into paying attention mode."

"Good, because this is a rough one."

Julius came to a stop in a seemingly arbitrary area of the trees and waved a hand, bringing up a privacy ward around them. They were only a hundred metres or so from the party, but with that and the group being distracted, it was unlikely that they would be overheard.

Julius turned, crossing his arms and sighing.

"What's wrong?" Xander asked.

"Besides the state of the world? Nothing now, quite a lot imminently." Julius answered, grimacing. "I'm going to be honest with you, I didn't think we'd do this so soon. It's good, don't get me wrong, but…well, everything changes now. Guess I was just relishing the days where we could relax a bit."

"None of which gives me anything helpful." Xander pointed out. "Julius, tell me what's wrong."

"Right. First of all: don't do anything crazy until I'm finished explaining, please. Because halfway through this, it's going to sound very bad." Julius asked.

"Okay…" Xander replied, frowning.

"Thank you. So…you know the conspiracy?"

Xander nodded. "The conspiracy you're pretending to be a part of?"

"Yep, them." Julius raised a hand, scratching the back of his head. "I'm…not exactly pretending."

The world got smaller.

Xander stopped noticing the muffled voices from the nearby party, the rustling of the wind in the trees, the smell of nature, the feel of the cold air against his skin. His focus narrowed exclusively onto Julius' pained face and pained words, and everything else stopped mattering.

"What." He said.

"The plan, to bring down the remaining Towers and fundamentally change the state of the world?" Julius clarified. "I'm in on it. That is the plan."

"Explain." Xander said. "Rapidly."

"The average Man lives forty years." Julius replied, the words rolling off his tongue like he'd practised them hundreds of times. "That means every year, one fortieth of the population of Mankind dies. Closer to a century for the Mer, somewhere between those for the beast races. People are dying, constantly. I want to stop it."

"So you're going to kill them all at once?" Xander asked, noting with a small part of his brain the utter lack of feeling in his words.

"No. I'm going to save them all at once." Julius' gaze was intense. "Alex, when we talked in High Hrothgar, what was it you said? You didn't just want to save as many lives as possible—"

"I want to save all the lives." Xander repeated. "I want to save the world."

"You can have the former if you give up on the latter. If the Towers fall, Mundus as we know it ceases to be. The material plane stops being the material plane. The universe reverts to a more primal state of being." Julius explained. "We go back to what we were before the Aedra made the world. Et-Ada. Primordial spirits, floating in a less concretely defined world."

He took a step forward. "Et-Ada don't age, Alex. They don't die. If we bring down the Towers, nobody ever has to die again."

Feeling was slowly coming back to Xander, allowing him to notice the yawning pit forming in his stomach.

"Julius." He warned. "You sound crazy."

"Killing the Emperor because it's good for the Empire sounds crazy." Julius threw back at him. "How many of your friends would turn on you immediately for that?"

Crap. His friends. "Have you hurt them?" Xander asked.

"Of course not!" Julius spread his hands. "Don't think I'm suddenly revealing that I'm a moustache-twirling psycho, I've never lied to you. I'm not planning to hurt anyone."

"Just to turn them into ghosts."

"Ghosts are not the same thing. You read the books I gave you, right?"

"Books are not evidence." Xander said, voice rising. "Julius, this is so stupidly risky—"

"Do you think I'd gamble the planet on long odds?" Julius demanded. "Do you think I've not spent the better part of a decade researching this? Testing things, searching places? I broke into Artaeum a few years ago and looked at what the Psijics were keeping, Alex; I'm sure. Sure enough to risk it that this will work."

Xander's heart was thumping in his chest. "Do Octavia and Cassia know about this?"

"Cassia's too naïve, too young." Julius sighed. "Octavia's smart, better than most at thinking objectively, but she's too focused on armies, politics, material things. She doesn't see the real big picture."

"Then why me?" Xander demanded.

"Because you understand." Julius' hands were raised in front of him; this was the first time Xander had ever seen him lose control over his body language. "You have ambition, you have dreams, you're not satisfied with the world the way it is. You want more. You've never seen death as something unstoppable, I've seen you scoff at stories where the moral is accepting it. You of all people recognise death for what it is."

"An insult." Xander answered, hoarsely. "A preventable tragedy that nobody's been able to solve yet. Something absolutely terrifying that might happen to me one day if I can't stop it."

"This is me trying to stop it." Julius spread his arms. "I want you to help me. As I said, even with our success here, I have a lot to do to make this work."

"What about the Dragonborn?" Xander asked.

"Alduin's apocalypse is not what I want." Julius said, emphatically. "I'm hoping the Dragonborn wins, and my desire to finish the job if he doesn't is real. That's why I've timed this to happen now."

"…And what if I say no?" Xander asked.

"Then I do it without you." Julius said, heavily. "Well, that's not true: First I would ask you why you said no, and try and convince you. I know I'm right to do this. And I can prove it to you, and I will prove it to you, but doing that will take a lot of time and we don't have much time, not anymore. I need you, right now, to trust me."

He held out a hand. "Please, brother. If you've ever trusted me about anything, trust me on this."

Alexander Meteuse stared at the hand.

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"Cheers!"

"Cheers!"

Dulurza downed her mug of ale immediately, a few hundred septims worth of alcohol gone in seconds. Hjar tried to match her pace and failed, almost choking, and Margret laughed, taking more time with hers. Octavia had caused Cassia's mug to disappear, and the youngest Meteuse was throwing a tantrum about it.

L'laarzen chuckled, relishing the atmosphere. She leaned down and sniffed her own mug, enjoying the aroma…and frowned.

"Octavia?" She asked. "Have you added something to this?"

"Mm?" Octavia looked up. "No, that's just how it smells. Golden Pear Ale is distinctive."

"L'laarzen knows. She has tried it before." L'laarzen gave it another suspicious sniff. "This is…slightly different."

"It is?" Octavia frowned, setting down her own mug. L'laarzen noticed that, while she had seemed to be drinking, the level in that mug was still quite high. "Okay I didn't put anything in it, so if something's in it that's not ideal. Let me see."

The others at the table had started to catch on to the concern. Hjar tilted her head. "Do you think there's something bad in it?"

"I don't feel ill, just drunk." Dulurza volunteered, before squinting. "Actually…whoa, way more drunk than I should. How strong is this stuff?"

Margret swore under her breath, setting her drink down and stumbling away from it.

"Not that strong." Octavia stepped up next to L'laarzen, magic forming. "Hold on. I have a spell for —"

And then she lashed out at L'laarzen's head.

If the Khajiit hadn't recognised the green of the magic from the Katariah, she would have been out like a light. As was, she dropped her mug and batted away the hand, and the one that followed it, but then there was a flash and suddenly Octavia had six limbs. L'laarzen couldn't tell which ones were real, and in her sweeping attempt to catch them all Octavia raised a knee and kicked her in the chest, forcing her back.

Across the table, Dulurza had stumbled, and collapsed onto her back, groaning. Margret too was supporting herself on the table, visibly woozy. Cassia was looking between them all, shock on her face.

"What—" She uttered, visibly overwhelmed, "What's going on? L—Let me help!"

"Stay back, Cassia!" Octavia snapped, charging up a spell—

Only for a fist to crack against her check. She tripped and crashed back into the table, and L'laarzen watched as Hjar planted a foot into her back, drawing her red steel sword and holding it to Octavia's cheek.

"Werewolves resist poison, remember?" The Reachwoman grunted.

"Alright, ENOUGH!" Cassia had flames in her hands, and was staring at the three who were still awake with wild eyes. "Everyone stop threatening each other right now or I will start throwing fireballs!"

L'laarzen's ears flattened, and her eyes narrowed.

What is happening? Where are Julius and Alexander?

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Xander glanced towards the campsite. Then back towards his brother.

Gulped.

"Alright." He said, quietly.

"Alright you're in?" Julius asked, his eyes widening.

"I have a lot of questions." Xander admitted. "But I trust you. I…I'm in, until I know enough to be sure." He turned away. "We should head back, since they'll be missing us by now, and then later—"

"Alex." Said Julius, making him stop. The voice was relaxed and sad.

Xander turned back. "Yes?"

Julius looked resigned. "We both know that you still can't lie to me."

Silence reigned for one second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

Four—

"FEIM!" Xander shouted, turning ethereal and turning to run, but Julius swept his arms to the sides and the earth beneath him shifted and cracked, revealing itself to be nothing but a hollow covering, and his stomach went into his throat as the ground beneath him was gone.

There was a pit, metres wide and metres deep, and he dropped straight into it, landing in a crumpled heap at the bottom. He wasn't hurt, but as he looked at the loose earth surrounding him, he realised he was trapped.

"You can't be touched by any magic or any object while you're ethereal." Julius called down, standing on the edge of the pit. "But you also can't fly. I figured this would buy me at least long enough to secure your friends and the Dragon soul. So if you could just stay there a minute—"

Before Xander could even shout at him in protest, he was gone.

Damnit. Damnit, damnit, damnit. Xander looked around desperately for a way out, mind in complete panic.

I can't climb out. I might be able to use Julius' leftover magicka on telekinesis but I'd be just as likely to bury myself. For the love of Dibella, how did I trap a Dragon's soul then get stuck in SODDING PIT TRAP?

Could he levitate? No, damnit, there weren't any books that contained the illegal spell and he'd never had the time or the magicka to work it out himself. Could he fly…?

The etherealness wore off with a flash, leaving him fleshy, vulnerable, and painfully aware of how fast his heart was beating.

He couldn't fly. Men and Mer couldn't fly; not even great Tongues like Jurgen Windcaller had ever been credited with that power. Not because they didn't have wings, or because they didn't have the strength; because flying had connotations in the Voice that they weren't capable of.

And Xander knew it! Knew it more than most, he had seen it in Vulbahlok's memories, felt the glorious freedom offered by dominance over the skies, dominance over time itself—

That was it. Vulbahlok had even said as much when they'd battled. Dragons flew, not because they had wings, but because they were not bound by the constraints of Nirn. Dragons flew because they did not fear death.

Xander narrowed his eyes, staring up at the sun. Did he?

Lots of people claim not to fear death. But that's just bravado, not a solution. You might not fear it, but you are still resigned to face it. Everyone does, eventually.

And you know what? Screw that. If Julius is right about anything, he was right about that! My friends are hurting!

Xander focused on everything he'd learned. From Vulbahlok; Dragon, aspect of the God of Time. from the Aetherius; the ultimate destination of all life, the place beyond death. From the Daedra; immortal, beings no Man or Mer had ever understood.

He sucked in a breath.

If I succeed, I will become a God, and I will have no need to fear death or time. And if I fail, Julius will end the world, and I will have no need to fear them anyway.

"Fuck what's impossible. BO!"

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Julius ran past the shack, assessing the scene the moment it came into view. Octavia's in danger, Hjar and L'laarzen are still up, Cassia's unstable. If I'm fast I might be able to paralyze all three. Yes, that's safe, because so long as I get the two main threats it doesn't matter if they slit Oct's throat, I can hold the blood in stasis long enough for Cassia to heal the wound, she'll do that even if she is confused—

Then there was an echoing boom from behind him.

He spun—What? How?—in time to see Alex blast out of the top of the pit, lock eyes with him for a split second, and then tear through the air towards him.

The sight stunned Julius for almost a full second. Alex was flying. No visible source of propulsion, no wings, no telekinesis, he was to all intents and purposes falling forwards as though that was the direction gravity was taking him.

Julius recovered quickly. He summoned a pair of paralysis spells, checked Xander's speed and direction, and blasted both at him.

Grimacing, Alex shouted "Feim!" again, turning ethereal and still flying, and the spells went right through him and he passed Julius moving towards the campsite, where everyone else who was conscious stopped what they were doing to look up and stare.

Well, great. Okay, this is manageable. Octavia's still with me, Cassia will probably side with her family. I can still take Alex once he reforms, so if I can bring down the others before—

And then, twisting in midair, Alex drew the staff of Magnus. Pointed it at the Dragon gem.

"NO—" Julius shouted; a beam of light struck the crystal—

Everything went white. And that meant everything.

Julius' vision whited out, his ears rang, his nose stung, and his body felt nothing but intense pressure on all sides.

The effects all slowly faded, revealing him to be slumped against the shack, body largely unresponsive. Cassia was sprawled on the grass some feet away, and Octavia was sunk chest deep into the marsh.

Everyone else was gone, and the Dragon gem was empty.

The next chapter will be uploaded at 3pm GMT (9am Central Time) on Sunday the 2nd of January.

...Happy New Year.