As they opened the door to the massive temple, Shai'ira saw that the interior was sparsely lit, with candles and chandeliers providing what little man made light there was, the rest being natural light pouring in from an opening on the ceiling. She spotted a figure kneeling in the middle of the room, bathing in the sunlight. The figure raised they're hooded head and gazed at Shai'ira and her comrades, before rising and approaching them.
Once the figure drew closer, Shai'ira was able to see that it was an elderly man. He bowed to her, and she returned the gesture. "Dragonborn, I am honored to welcome you to High Hrothgar. With the return of the dragons, we knew it was only a matter of time before a Dovahkiin was discovered. But before we continue, let us hear your voice."
Torval tapped Shai'ira on the shoulder and whispered, "He wants you to shout."
Shai'ira didn't respond. Instead, her mind drifted back to Bleak Falls Barrow and the large stone wall she'd seen. She remembered the words she'd seen inscribed upon it. At the time, she'd had no idea what they meant, but after she'd slain Mirmulnir, her mind was able to retroactively translate what she saw. Fus. As she thought of the word, she felt a power welling up in her gut, her body felt so full of energy she almost believed she would explode if she didn't release it.
Her chest tightened, and the muscles in her throat tensed, as she felt the word growing more powerful within her. She clenched her fists, and raised her head, her face contorting into a scowl as the word reached her throat.
"Fus!" Her body trembled as she roared the word. The hooded figure before her braced, and was able to withstand the blast that echoed forth from the Khajiit, his hood being blown down, and his robes shook as if they were caught in a storm.
Torval raised his hands to his ringing ears. "Gods, that hurt."
Shai'ira spotted a flicker of surprise on the Greybeards face, before he drew his hood back over his head. "I'd heard of the abilities of the Dragonborn, but to see it for myself…" He trailed off for a moment, his eyes drifting, before they refocused on Shai'ira. "I am master Arngeir, speaker of the Grey beards." As Arngeir introduced himself, several other hooded figures entered the chamber. "With me are Master Einarth, Master Wulfgar, and Master Borri. We shall teach you to master your Thu'um."
Shai'ira bowed. "I would be honored to learn from you, Master."
Arngeir nodded, and gestured for Shai'ira to follow him. They moved to the center of the chamber, and Arngeir gestured to Master Borri. The hooded figure gazed down at the stone floor beneath him, and whispered. "Ro." Even a whisper was enough to cause the ground to shudder, and the stone cracked, carved into characters resembling those Shai'ira had seen in Bleak Falls Barrow. Only now, with Mirmulnir and his memories, she was able to interpret what she saw. As she stared at the carvings, she felt what could only be described as an epiphany strike her, and she suddenly felt the word echo throughout her mind. Balance.
The next few hours were spent refining her ability to shout, and learning of the origins of the Dragonborn. They were mortals who had the souls of dragons, blessed by Akatosh, chief deity of the nine. Shai'ira was fascinated by much of it, and the Greybeards were stunned at Shai'ira's innate abilities, discovering that she was able to use shouts they hadn't taught her, such as breathing fire and ice. They concluded that due to Shai'ira absorbing Mirmulnirs memories, she had been able to bypass the decades of training the Greybeards had to go through to learn new words, instead drawing upon Mirmulnirs knowledge.
After her final training session was concluded, Arngeir approached Shai'ira. "Your abilities are remarkable, Dragonborn, but you must temper those abilities with experience and wisdom. I would have you travel to Ustengrav, the resting place of Jurgen Windcaller, and retrieve his horn. Once you return, we will formally recognize you as Dragonborn."
Shai'ira bowed, and gestured to Torval and Lydia to rejoin her.
Arngeir marked Ustengrav on her map, and the Khajiit, along with her faithful Nord companions, undertook the next step on their journey.
The trek down High Hrothgar was almost as difficult as the climb, the worn path making the descent slightly easier. Shai'ira rolled her neck and shoulders as she crossed the bridge back into Ivarstead, Torval and Lydia following close behind. Shai'ira spotted the Nord she'd agreed to aid on her way to High Hrothgar, and after graciously accepting the Nords payment, the Khajiit and her companions began the long trek to Ustengrav, the resting place of Jurgen Windcaller.
Their journey took several days, the trek mostly uneventful, barring a few bandit encounters and frostbite spiders.
When they finally arrived at Ustengrav, they set up camp for a brief respite before facing whatever challenges the tomb would hold. While Torval built a fire and cooked the venison that Shai'ira had poached earlier that day, The Khajiit busied herself with learning more about Lydia.
She learned that the Nord woman had spent most of her childhood as a squire, and had spent almost her enitre adulthood in the service of the city guard, and had earned commendations of valor five years ago when bandits tried to raid the local farms. Which evidently was one of the reasons Jarl Balgruuf had assigned her as housecarl to Shai'ira. Once Torval had finished cooking their meal, he handed plates to Shai'ira and Lydia, and the three began to eat.
The sounds of their eating were intermittently interrupted as Torval and Shai'ira told Lydia about their lives prior to coming to Skyrim. The death of Shai'iras' birth parents, and subsequent adoption by a blacksmith and priestess, Torvals' veterancy from the Great War and the many battles he'd fought against the empire, and his kinship with her adopted father, and Shai'iras' experiences growing up learning how to forge weapons and armor from her father, and how to master her magical abilities from her mother. The sun set as the trio talked, and, after finishing their meals decided that they should get to work. Torval doused the fire, and motioned for the two women to prepare.
Torval took point, Shai'ira was in the center, and Lydia took up the rear. Both of the Nords lit their torches as they approached the door to the tomb. As soon as Torval opened it, Shai'ira was struck by the smell of decayed, rotten flesh, of cobwebs and dusty coffins, some of which could be empty, just like Bleak Falls Barrow. Thanks to her catlike vision, her candlelight spell, and the torches her comrades were carrying, the normally pitch black tomb was filled with just enough light to see with. As the trio descended deeper into the tomb, Shai'ira began to hear shuffling, and before long, she spotted a pair of pale eyes staring at them through the darkness. The Draugr stepped into the light of the torches, revealing rotting meat clinging to pale bones as the undead approached them. Lydia raised her sword, and moved to engage.
But as soon as she moved, the draugr raised its right hand, and stinging ice and frost shot forth. Lydia quickly ducked behind a pillar next to her, and Torval also dove into cover. "The damned thing's a spellcaster!" Torval shouted, stating the obvious. The draugr cast another offensive spell at Shai'ira who, reacting quickly, raised a ward spell. Once the ice collided with the magical barrier, Shai'ira scowled, concentrating on maintaining the spell. Seeing that the draugr was distracted, Torval and Lydia left the safety of their cover and moved to attack. The draugr growled something in its guttural language, It's rotted body barely able to vocalize, and ceased its attack on Shai'ira before casting spells targeting the two Nords. Torval cursed and withdrew, an icy spike missing his head by mere inches. Lydia was not so fortunate however.
The blast of frost the draugr fired impacted Lydia in the leg before she could fully retreat. The Nord hissed in pain as she felt the stinging cold in her bones. Shai'ira seized the opportunity of the momentary distraction, and charged an offensive ice spell of her own, the draugrs undead nature making the freezing cold more effective. As she did so, the draugr refocused on Shai'ira, who created another ward just in time to protect her from the draugr's renewed attack. Shai'ira hissed as the effort of trying to maintain two different spells sapped her focus. With a growl, she loosed the bolt of ice she'd created in her right hand, and managed to hit the draugr in the right shoulder, ending its attack. Torval seized the advantage Shai'ira had created, and dove from cover, swinging his mace with savage fury.
The blow struck the draugr spellcaster in the skull, crushing the bones and nearly causing the monster's head to explode from the force of the blow. Torval shook his shoulders, and turned back to face his allies. With the threat gone, Shai'ira had turned her attention to Lydia, and was now tending to her wounded leg. The unnatural ice had only briefly made contact with Lydia, but even that brief window of contact nearly caused frostbite, despite the several layers of armor and clothing Lydia wore. Shai'ira focused her energy through her palms and into Lydia's cold flesh, and the Nord woman groaned as heat filled her flesh again. Once Lydia could feel her leg again the trio continued, with Torval taking point. The smell of rotted flesh and bone assaulted Shai'ira's nostrils, and she felt as though she were on the verge of choking. After several minutes of delving through the dark, Torval grunted in surprise as the floor beneath him sank, before he lurched backwards as a gout of flame burst forth. "Gods above!" He shouted in surprise.
"Nobody move!" Shai'ira ordered. Everyone halted, and Shai'ira launched a ball of magical light, which stuck to the ceiling above them. With the additional light, they saw the floor beneath them was comprised almost entirely of pressure plates just like the one Torval had stepped on, making traversing the room nearly impossible. Nearly.
Shai'ira noticed a slight delay before the plate reacted to Torval's weight, a delay long enough that her feline agility should allow her to avoid the consequences of stepping on the plates. Shai'ira could traverse the room relatively risk free, but her Nordic companions, laden with their armor, wouldn't be able to accompany her any further. Torval had seen the look in her eyes as she analyzed the traps, and looked at him and Lydia, and immediately knew what she was about to say.
"Oh no, you are not going to just leave us here while you go dungeon diving on your own lass." Torval admonished.
"I swore an oath to protect you. I can't let you go alone." Lydia said.
Shai'ira thrust out her arms in indignation. "What should we do then? The two of you will be burned to a crisp if you try to follow me, and we can't afford to turn back, we need the Greybeards help. And in order to get it, I need the horn."
Torval huffed in frustration. "But-"
"But nothing! You can't follow me any further, so just wait back at the entrance. I'll find you two after I've found the horn." Torval looked as though he were about to continue the argument, when he suddenly deflated, the fight leaving him.
"Very well, just be alert. There are probably more draugr you have to worry about further in." Shai'ira nodded, and watched the two Nords retrace their steps, frustration carved into both their faces.
Shai'ira turned back to face the obstacle in front of her and sighed. She, an inexperienced Khajiit, was about to confront who knows how many draugr, and whatever else was lurking in this tomb, alone. She rolled her head and shoulders, preparing herself. Here goes nothing. She thought to herself, before she leapt from the safety of her current footing, and felt the ground sink as the pressure plate began to react.
