"Unblooded, what's your read on this situation?" The group, thinned a bit from the beginning, shifted so that Elana could get to the front near Galmar. An armored draugr sat on a leveled platform, a crown on his head. "Do we rush?"

"No, his activity will raise others. Instead, if all with bows were to pelt him at once, it might weaken him severely. The others will still rise but it will be an easier job."

Galmar motioned for the remaining archers to prepare, and Elana followed suit.

All their arrows were not enough to immediately fell the draugr. It still rose from its throne as three others burst from coffins. But a second wave sent the creature to its knees, and Galmar raced forward to behead it, growling for the rest to come attack him while gesturing at Elana. She hurried up to his side at his beckoning. "Elan, take the crown to Ulfric, at top speed, you hear? There's just three, two more. What's a little ice?" With another happy snarl, he hefted his axe back over his shoulder and charged a draugr.

Carefully pocketing the crown in a satchel, Elana took off, pausing only when a Wall pulled her in a familiar way.

"Go, errand girl. There's a new Word to collect."

I am the Dovahkiin, I am no one's-

TIID. What was that? Oh yes, TIME. She was running out of TIME. Sand, eternity, slipping by, slipping through her fingers as TIME tick-tick-tick-tick-ticked past and it kept tick-tick-tick-tick

"DOVAHKIIN!"

Forgive me, Mirmulnir. I forgot what you had taught me.

"So it seems. Now move along. You have a delivery to make. And, if I am not mistaken, much loot to sort through. Someone likes to take advantage of when others aren't looking."

Oh, like you could have resisted the shiny gems.

"No. Dov cannot."

Sobered, Elana slipped away, back to the light, Windhelm, and Ulfric Stormcloak.

"Complements of Galmar."

Ulfric turned the crown over in his hands. "I'm impressed with all involved. Thank you for bringing this to me. Now comes the hard part, for I do not want to put you in an awkward situation, but perhaps you can make him see sense. You are a Thane of Whiterun, yes?"

Elana bowed in assent. "I am."

The Jarl of Windhelm stood. "I need you to deliver this to Jarl Balgruuf." He handed over his axe.

"Your axe, sir?"

"He will know what it means."

As do I. "I will do as you ask, my Jarl."

Ulfric sat back down on his throne. "Thank you. Now please, deliver my message to Whiterun."

Elana sat in her rented room, turning the axe of Ulfric over in her hands.

He's forcing Balgruuf's hand. He will set the war loose on Skyrim with this single axe. And I know, at least I think I know, where Balgruuf will fall. He cannot rebel. He can't justify for himself rebelling, not when Whiterun is fine. But the city isn't fine, at least, not really. And he'll be so disappointed to see me hand him this axe. How could Ulfric do this to me?

"He hoped you had the Jarls's ear."

First, I wasn't exactly asking for help. Second, Ulfric should know a Jarl's confidante does not go running off wherever the winds blow. Proventus is glued to Dragonsreach.

"The winds of fate and Alduin's wings control you. You couldn't glue yourself to Dragonsreach if you tried."

Thanks.

"Anytime."

Anyway, I can't go south to Whiterun. I have to get to the College first. Ulfric's message will have to wait. I should tell him. No, then someone else will go and my city will burn without me there to protect it.

"Deceit, hatchling?"

White lies in omission. Elana wrapped the axe in protective cloths, storing it in her packs. And what would you have done if you had to deliver news of war onto your own city?

"Whiterun is not yours, except by adotption," Mirmulnir corrected as Elana snapped at him while she hastily packed. "And no one would have warred against Bromjunaar, not until the end when men rebelled. But I think I understand what you feel, the anger, the desperate and the protective. I will not condone this omission. But I cannot argue against it, not when I would have delayed any actions of mine that could have harmed Bromjunaar." He paused. "It fell anyway, for all we fought."

Elana shouldered her packs, cutting off the conversation. She tipped the innkeeper as she left the room and pushed her way out the inn doors and those of the city, heading for the carriage driver. "Take me to Winterhold."

"The city of mages? It's just a husk. You sure?"

"I'm sure."

"What do you mean I can't cross?"

"I just need to see some magic first," the elf guarding the bridge said calmly.

Elana sighed, trying to lower her voice some more. Rasping did not make for an imposing tone. "But I don't do magic. I'm not a mage; I'm a warrior. On my way to saving the world and all and for that I need an Elder Scroll."

"First, what makes you think we have one of those; and second, what do you even need such an artifact for?"

"Ask the wise minds up High Hrothgar. They told me to come looking here for one."

The elf blinked in surprise. "High Hrothgar? You've been to the Greybeards?"

Elana paused, swallowed, and continued. "Did I forget to mention I am Elan, Thane of Whiterun and Dovahkiin? Apologies, introductions should have been first."

"My name is Faralda. And please, Dovahkiin, may I see a Shout? That will suffice."

"Only one Word."

I know.

FUS.

Faralda stumbled back, smiling. "Oh my. That was- I wonder, could I possible ask you, wait you came here on a mission. I can't halt that. Go on in. Only, sometime come back? I'd love to take some notes on Shouts. Oh, and I have dibs."

Elana smiled. "If I can."