Longer chapter this time around! The ones with dragons always seem to be longer for some reason...

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Onmund

To see through Magnus' Eye without being blinded, you need his staff, the Augur had said. Take this knowledge to your Archmage.

Onmund walked swiftly south, trying to get through Eastmarch as fast as possible. Why did the stupid ruin have to be in Eastmarch anyways? Why couldn't it be someplace more agreeable, like Riften or Markarth?

He rubbed his face as he studied his map. He'd hoped to make it to the ruins in one day to spend as little time in Eastmarch as possible, but the sun was already going down and his head hurt. He'd have to spend the night in a town. Nothing for it.

Hopefully they wouldn't be this far south.

The inn at Kynesgrove was small, and it fit the town. The only major thing there seemed to be a mine of some kind. Onmund let out a sigh. No one would think to look for him here.

Still, he could swear everyone's eyes were on him as he entered the tavern. Why hadn't he changed out of his robes? Why hadn't he waited until one of the others had gotten back?

Onmund's stomach twisted as he heard whispering behind him. He quickly moved to the counter, pulling his hood over his face. He wasn't hungry. He just wanted to get a room and hide under the sheets until morning. But he knew if he didn't eat, he'd be in no shape to travel.

"One room please," he told the barkeep, trying to keep his voice from shaking. "And stew, if you have it." He pushed some septims across the counter and sighed as the barkeep picked them up and counted them. Onmund sighed as he felt how much lighter his coin purse already felt. He needed to do more odd jobs around the college if he was going to pay for inn stays.

The barkeep set a bowl of steaming broth in front of him. "Take any room on the right," she grunted, walking away.

Onmund breathed in the steam as he looked down at the counter. The whispers behind him grew louder. "He looks like a Nord but..."

"Well he's definitely not an elf. Could be a Breton?"

"Nah, he's not short enough. Wonder what made him take up magic."

"Maybe it's just a family thing?"

"It's not a 'family thing', Kjald!" That last voice sounded familiar. Too familiar...

Oh no. Onmund risked a glance over his shoulder. A group of Nords in Stormcloak armor were sitting around a table in the corner. One of them, a brunette woman in her late twenties or early thirties, was giving him an icy glare.

"Ysmir's balls!" Onmund cursed under his breath. Why here? Why here? Why now? Did the gods hate him?

"How do you know that, Bryn?" There was the sound of a chair scraping across the floor. Shit. "Bryn? Hey, where are you going?"

Oh no. No no no.

Onmund nearly overturned the broth as he stood up and walked quickly towards the door. Screw this. He could sleep in the woods. Never mind the septims.

Bile built in his throat and he felt nauseous as he opened the front door. Running away again. Some Nord he was.

As he let the door shut behind him, Onmund sank down to the steps in front of the inn and took deep gasps of air. His vision began to blur. Some Nord he was.

"Well, nothing seems to have happened yet," came another familiar voice.

"Yet." Onmund didn't recognize that voice, but...

"Minerva?" Sure enough, he turned his head to see two Bretons coming up the road. Onmund didn't recognize the serious blonde one, but he recognized the other one very well.

Minerva's hair had gotten a bit longer over the last month, and she had changed out of her mage robes into some studded armor with a cape. As her eyes landed on him though, he saw her grin hadn't changed. "Onmund! Hey!"

But before she could walk over, the blonde Breton grabbed her arm. "Not now! We don't have time!"

Minerva glared at the blonde as she yanked her arm away. That hadn't changed either it seemed. "We have five minutes! I haven't seen this guy in a month, lay off!"

"You said you'd come with me!"

"Listen, I only came with you because you promised me information if I killed a dragon-"

"And absorbed its soul-"

"But you seem too much of a coward to be seen in public, much less slay a dragon! Much less give me the information you promised!"

Onmund saw a few people passing by stop as the argument got more heated. He stood up. "Uh, guys..."

Delphine leaned in close. "Don't you dare judge me! You have no idea what I've been through!"

"Then tell me why you're acting like this, you utter coward!"

The blonde flushed red. "Call me a coward one more-"

Onmund pushed the two women apart. "Knock it off!" he said forcefully. Both Bretons turned to him, shocked. Onmund took a breath. "Look, you're both tired, but everyone is staring at you. If you're going to yell at each other, you should at least do it where no one can hear you!"

There weren't a lot of people in the street, but those that were there were now obviously staring at the group. The blonde looked over, noticed the stares, and visibly paled. She glared at Minerva, turned on her heel, and entered the inn, letting the door slam behind her.

Minerva sighed and sat down on the steps. "Thank the Eight," she grumbled.

Onmund sat down beside her. He looked at the people on the street silently until they started walking again. He turned to Minerva. "So...who was that?"

Minerva groaned and explained everything that had happened since Whiterun. The Greybeards, their test, how the blonde, Delphine, had interfered...

When she was done, Onmund just stared at her. "So let me get this straight: you have no reason to trust this woman, she's already shown she's willing to sneak and deceive...and you decided to travel with her anyways?"

Minerva blinked. "Well...uh..." She puffed out her cheeks. "She tricked me and is super demeaning. Don't make it sound dumb and petty!"

Despite the situation, Onmund smiled and laughed a bit. "It's nice to see you again, Min."

Minerva blushed a bit. "Um...you too." The two sat in silence for a bit. Minerva sighed. "Okay, maybe it was dumb to travel with a woman who has a shank-murder closet. But she's annoying and I want to..."

"You want to see her face when you succeed," finished Onmund with a half-smile.

Minerva sighed. "Yeah." She scowled. "But no matter how much I want any of that, she doesn't get to tell me not to talk to my friends!" She smiled and put a hand on Onmund's shoulder. "What's say we head in and get some grub?"

Onmund's stomach dropped as he remembered why he'd come outside in the first place. "Um, about that..."

"Huh. Look what the riekling dragged in." Onmund turned around to see two other familiar faces.

Minerva grinned. "Bre! J'zargo! What are you all doing here?"

Brelyna looked incredibly tired, like she'd been running for several days straight. "Vampires...Daedra...Urag...I don't want to talk about it."

J'zargo's tail flicked. He looked much more awake. "We were just heading back to the College. And this one could ask the same thing. Are you not supposed to be at the top of a mountain?"

Minerva groaned. "I'm not gonna explain everything again right after I told Onmund. Let's just say they sent me down here to grab a thing and it was stolen by a very, very annoying woman who I'm stuck with for now if I want to know why she stole it."

With that, she opened the inn door and headed inside. Onmund gulped, resisting the urge to make the hand gestures for the Invisibility spell. Not that he wasn't sorely tempted, but how would he explain why?

He tried to stay directly behind Minerva as he crept back in. Not that it did much good, considering she was a head shorter than him. He felt everyone's stares on him again. Luckily, it wasn't as intense since their attention was divided between the four mages. Wait, could they even tell Minerva was a mage? She wasn't wearing her apprentice outfit anymore, except for the boots. Would they just assume that a Breton would know magic?

Onmund pondered this as he sat in his seat from before. The broth was still there, albeit cold now. His own fault, he supposed. He sighed. He still wasn't hungry, but he had to eat.

He risked another glance over his shoulder. Bryn was back with her Stormcloak friends, but luckily they all seemed to be absorbed in a card game.

Onmund breathed a sigh of relief. "Something wrong?" asked Brelyna.

By the Nine, this was not the time to get into it. Onmund shook his head and gulped down the broth as the others talked.

Minerva

She was back in the room again. The priest was there, back in his usual clothes. He smiled at her. "Welcome back."

Minerva sighed. "Hi." She crossed her arms. "So...Dragonborn, huh?" She gave the priest a pointed look. "Were you...you know, ever gonna inform me of that?"

The priest shrugged. "We...we didn't want to overwhelm you too quickly. Anyway, you probably wouldn't have believed me."

We? But he had a point. "Ugh. I guess that's fair." Minerva leaned on a wall. "So, now that I know I'm Dragonborn, can you tell me more? Or are you going to clam up too?"

The priest shook his head. "I will tell you what I can. But I'm not totally in control of that, you understand."

"Not really. What's preventing you from saying anything?"

"As for Delphine...so this is all that remains of the Blades." The priest sighed and brushed his bangs aside. "A shame. The Blades I knew were honorable. Respectful. The Thalmor really did do a number on them."

Minerva jumped. "The Blades? As in the people who used to guard the Septim Emperors? The ones that got wiped out during the Great War? Those Blades?"

The man nodded. "The same." He looked away, his face sad.

Minerva frowned. "The Septims were all Dragonborn...I guess that explains her interest in me." She crossed her arms. "And that sword, too. How come they don't get along with the Greybeards?"

The priest shook his head. "That I'm not sure about. All I heard was that it was due to a 'difference of opinion'." He sighed and shrugged. "I was never able to visit the Greybeards myself, so I never heard their side."

"Man, Papi always told me how heroic the Blades were. How they saved the life of Martin Septim, and the other emperors too." MInerva groaned. "Of course the one I got to meet is a total bitch."

Another sigh and shrug. "Well, she's been running for her life for years. Perhaps we shouldn't judge her too-"

That's when a piercing scream woke Minerva.

She startled so much she fell out of bed and hit the floor with a thud. "Wazzat?"

Blinking and rubbing her eyes, Minerva pulled on her armor and headed downstairs. It was still dark out, but everyone seemed to have vacated the inn proper. They were all standing around outside, staring at something Minerva couldn't see from where she was. But as soon as she got outside, she figured out why everyone was reacting the way they were.

There was a dragon circling the hilltop. It was blacker than the night sky, and even from where she stood Minerva could see its eyes glowing red hot.

"That's..." she heard a familiar voice whisper.

"It's the dragon from Helgen," confirmed Minerva.

The other mages were out there too. Both Brelyna and Onmund looked pale. J'zargo's ears were pinned back. "Well?" he questioned. "Shall we go see what it is doing?"

"Are you nuts?" hissed Brelyna.

Minerva pulled out her axe and shrugged. "Well, this is what I came here to check out. I'm heading up. You can stay down here if you want. I won't hold it against you." She groaned. "Delphine's probably already up there snooping."

With that, she started walking up the mountain. Onmund turned to the others. "Come on, we should go help."

Sure enough, Delphine was hiding behind a rock, watching the black dragon circle around a mound on the ground. Minerva knelt next to her. Delphine looked at her and sighed. "Thank the gods. I was wondering if you were going to make it in time."

Minerva shook her head. "What's it doing?" she hissed.

"I don't know," Delphine hissed back. "We need to wait."

"We'll wait with you." Minerva and Delphine jumped as the others came up behind them.

Delphine groaned and glared at Onmund. "You really are an annoyance. Just stay quiet and wait."

Minerva balled her fist, but luckily they didn't need to wait long. The dragon finally stopped circling, instead flapping in one place, facing the mound. Then it spoke, in a voice deeper and louder than thunder. "Sahloknir, ziil gro dovah ulse! SLEN TIL VO!"

At the shout, the mound exploded upwards. Dirt and silt rained down, and Minerva had to shield her eyes. When it stopped, she lowered her arm and gulped.

Climbing out of the mound was a skeleton. A dragon skeleton. But as it clambered out, Minerva could see it glowing. Over the bones, muscles and scales began to grow and take shape. It was like the reverse of what had happened at Whiterun.

The undead dragon looked up. "Alduin, thuri! Boaan tiid vokriha suleyksejun kruziik?"

The black dragon nodded. "Geh, Sahloknir, kaali mir." The black dragon then looked over to the rock. "Ni vonun, joorre. Bo krif zu'u."

Shit. Minerva slid out from behind the rock. "What are you doing?" hissed Delphine.

Minerva shook her head. "He knows we're here, obviously! Why delay things?"

It was even bigger now that she got a closer look. And something about his aura was powerful. Terrifying. Even with her annoyance at Delphine fueling her, it took all of Minerva's strength not to let her knees buckle, to resist her legs carrying her away as fast as they could go. She looked up at the dragon, crossing her arms. She tried to look him in the eyes, but the burning intensity of his stare made her look away. "Well? What do you want?"

The black dragon made a dismissive sound. "Ful, losei Dovahkiin? Zu'u koraav nid nol dov do hi." Minerva stared at the dragon blankly. "You do not even understand me, do you? How willful. How prideful, to take for yourself the name of the dov."

Minerva's cheeks flushed red. "I didn't 'take it' for myself you giant flying piece of shit! That's just what everyone's been calling me!"

"But you believe them, don't you? You would not have come to face me if you did not."

"Well, yeah! How else do you explain the Shouting thing? Want me to demonstrate?"

The black dragon snorted. "Hmph. Arrogent joor. You act like you are a true dov, but you have none of the actual power." He turned to the undead dragon, now almost fully re-formed. "Saloknir, krii daare jorre."

Then he turned away, and with a few wingbeats he was gone. "Get back here!" yelled Minerva. She immediately stumbled back as the undead dragon, Saloknir she guessed, landed in front of her. It took a deep breath. "YOL TOOR!"

Someone slammed into Minerva, pushing her out of the way and onto the ground. "Gah!" Minerva looked up to see Onmund hopping around, the hem of his robes alight. "Ow ow ow not again!"

Minerva picked herself up and drew her axe as J'zargo used an ice blast to put Onmund's flames out. "Hope you're ready to go back into the ground, buddy!"

Saloknir was not, in fact, ready to go back into the ground. As soon as he finished breathing fire, he took off into the air. He flew in spirals and zigzags, dodging spells and arrows thrown at him. "Get down here!" yelled Minerva.

"Hmm...Niid!" the dragon yelled back.

Luckily, the dragon did occasionally have to stop to aim his fire breath. So after a while, J'zargo tore one of his wings with an ice spike. Delphine shot an arrow at the same area and made the tear bigger. Finally, Minerva Shouted with Unrelenting Force, and the dragon lost his balance and spiraled downwards, hitting the ground hard.

Once that happened, the group fell upon him. Brelyna summoned two atronachs and Onumnd shot the dragon with lightning while Minerva slashed with her axe. J'zargo shot flames at the dragon while Delphine peppered its hide with arrows.

The dragon let out a blood curdling roar that almost sounded like a scream. Then it slumped to the ground and laid still.

The group was silent. "...is it dead?" asked J'zargo.

They soon got their answer when the dragon began to glow. Just like in Whiterun, ghostly energy poured off of the corpse and flowed into Minerva. The strain from swinging her axe so much faded, as did the bruises she'd gotten during the fight.

"Well, that answers that," noted Delphine.

"Resurrected after so many years only to die within ten minutes," J'zargo observed. "J'zargo almost feels bad for it."

Minerva turned to look at Delphine. "Well? Believe me now?"

"Onmund? What's wrong? You look like you're going to be sick."

At Brelyna's words, Minerva turned and saw she was right. Onmund was white as a ghost. "Onmund?"

Onmund shook his head. "What that other dragon said..."

Minerva blinked in surprise. "You understood that?"

Onmund shook his head. "No, not at all. But you heard it too, right? The black dragon...he called him 'Alduin'."

Delphine looked down, and Brelyna gulped. "What...what does that mean? Who's Alduin?"

Onmund rubbed his arms. "He's...well, he's basically the Nord aspect of Akatosh. The terrifying, destructive parts of time. The part of time that crumbles away people and nations...that's what Alduin is." He looked at the others and swallowed. "He's called the World-Eater. His job...his purpose...is to end the world. "

There was silence. "You're...you're kidding," whispered Brelyna.

"No...I don't think he is," said J'zargo shakily. "J'zargo's grandmother told him about a similar figure from Khajit legends. Alkhan, he was called. She said that Alkhan could gain power by killing people and eating their souls."

"No way..." uttered Delphine. "No...it's not possible. Esbern...you were...were actually right? Were you actually serious?"

"Esbern?" questioned Brelyna. "Who's Esbern?"

Delphine looked at the group. Minerva crossed her arms and glared at her. "Come on. you promised."

Delphine sighed. "Yes, I did, didn't I. Very well. Ask me whatever you want."

Minerva nodded, then took a breath. "Who are you, really? You're obviously not an innkeeper." She more or less trusted the dream priest, but she wanted to see if Delphine would be truthful.

Delphine laughed. "Well, that's a bit of a loaded question." She pulled out her sword.

"Wait!" yelped Brelyna. "That sword! So you were who Farengar was talking to?"

Delphine nodded. "I've been tracking this dragon problem for a while now. I'm part of the Blades. Or...I was."

"Before the Thalmor," Onmund whispered.

Delphine nodded. "I've been in hiding for years." She sheathed her sword. "Back before they became the emperor's personal guard, the Blades were dragonslayers. Now that the Septims are gone, as well as most of us..." she looked away. "We haven't had a purpose. Not for the last two hundred years." She looked straight at Minerva. "We Blades are sworn to serve the Dragonborn. That's why I had to know if you were one."

Minerva blinked. "Huh. I...I see." The thought of someone sworn to serve her. Because she was Dragonborn. It was kind of a nutty thought. Though not unwelcome. "You said you've been following the dragon thing for a long time. What do you know about it? And why is one of them supposed to end the world?"

Delphine shook her head. "Unfortunately, I don't have anything concrete yet. But I have my suspicions."

"About what?"

"I think the Thalmor are behind it."

There was a short laugh. Everyone turned to look at Onmund. "Sorry," he laughed, "Sorry. But we're talking about the World-Eater here. Are you saying the Thalmor brought him back into existence? Why? Why would they want to destroy the world?"

Delphine let out an annoyed sigh. "I don't think they do. I think they're trying to use it as a weapon. Think about it. When did that dragon first appear?"

"At Helgen," answered Brelyna. "We were all there."

"Right. Just as Ulfric Stormcloak was about to be executed. If that dragon hadn't shown up to cause chaos, the Civil War would have been as good as over. And the only people who benefit from the Civil War continuing are the Thalmor. They want it to go on as long as possible, for the Empire to drain its resources and shake itself to pieces."

"But this is only a theory, yes?" J'zargo clarified.

"Not for long. I already have a contact in Solitude looking into my theory as we speak."

"A contact?" questioned J'zargo. "And can the Blade trust her contact?"

Delphine smiled. "I don't know." She nodded to MInerva. "I think the better question here is: can she?"

Minerva frowned. "What do you mean can I..." Her eyes widened. "Oh. Oh no you didn't."

Gildas

Your sister needs your help. Find files about dragons and any Thalmor involvement in their return. Your contact is the bartender. Cause a distraction, then find your way to the Solar. Meet us afterwards in Riverwood. Ask for the attic room.

Gildas sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Mara's mercy, how do I get myself into these things?"

Translations:

Sahloknir, ziil gro dovah ulse! SLEN TIL VO! - Sahloknir, I bind (your) dragon(soul) forever! FLESH-TIME-UNDO!

Alduin, thuri! Boaan tiid vokriha suleyksejun kruziik? - Alduin, (my) lord. (Has) come a time to restore (the) realm ancient?

Geh, Sahloknir, kaali mir - Yes, Sahloknir, champion of mine

Ful, losei Dovahkiin? Zu'u koraav nid nol dov do hi - So, you are Dragonborn? I see none from (the) dragons from you

Saloknir, krii daare jorre - Saloknir, kill these mortals

Ni vonun, joorre. Bo krif zu'u - (Do) not hide, mortals. Come fight me.

Hmm...niid! - Hmm...no!

Next chapter: Gildas reunites with his sister and lets her know that, no, their grandfather's warnings were not an exaggeration. Also, Onmund and J'zargo explore a Dwarven Ruin, and deal with a very annoying man.