For the second time that night, Alduin approached the Throat of the World. This time was different. The resistance that had been so apparent previously was gone. The dragon found himself without the muffled shouts and whispers from the irritable old men that resided in the monastery. How dare they try to stop him from coming here, without him there would be no them, without him the pitiful pile of rubble they called a monastery would just be one more unimpressive mountain in this God forsaken land.

The night was still, clear. A velvet sky coated in a blanket of stars and moons. His form was simply a sleek black shadow against the backdrop and he swooped down from the higher clouds, as silent as an owl. If Paarthurnax sensed he was there he made no show of it. He rested, perched, on top of the word wall, his eyes shut as if he were asleep.

Alduin landed effortlessly on one of the rocks jutting out of the top of the peak and studied his older brother. Through many eras they had battled and plotted side by side, yet as Alduin looked down upon him now, Paarthurnax had not changed. He remained the calm, wise brother Alduin had always relied upon. It still unnerved him, that his own Lieutenant no longer believed in a war they had spent so long fighting together.

'Drem yol lok, Alduin.' ['Greetings, Alduin.'] Paarthurnax's eyes opened slowly, his eyes showing that same cool regard they always did. 'Lok paaz?' ['Are your skies fair?']

Alduin growled at the question. His crimson eyes flashed. 'Dreh ni mock zu'u. Mindok hi zu'u meyz.' ['Do not mock me. You know why I come.']

'Geh.' ['Yes.'] Paarthurnax shifted his perch and seemed to settle into himself, as if readying to tell a great story. However, his eyes began to close again. 'I cannot tell you anything you do not already know. The Dovahkiin's interference is something you did not expect…You come to me for reassurance I cannot give.'

The Tamrielic angered Alduin. His eyes burned like coals in his skull and he bit back a roar. His claws dug into the rocks at his feet, scraping and grinding at the hard stone until they were striped with grooves deep enough to swallow a man. 'Daar mindoraan, Paarthurnax,' ['Understand this, Paarthurnax,'] Alduin's voice was gravel on the riverbed, thorns littering a flower stem. 'Nust fen ney oblaan dar lein. Tiid bo amativ.' ['They both will die. Time flows onward.']

Alduin began to beat his wings, finding it unbearable to be in the traitorous dragon's company for any longer. Paarthurnax's eyes opened in a flash of startling yellow, suddenly hard and fierce. 'Dez motmahus, zeymah.' [fate is slippery, brother.'] He growled lowly as Alduin disappeared into the night sky.


Ollric was greeted the next morning by a pulsing headache and the same sickening feeling deep in his gut he got when he stood on the deck of a ship. He rolled onto his side, groaning, his hands pushing the bottles beside his bed away. He could vaguely remember stumbling into the bar and demanding more wine from the innkeeper, who argued he'd had enough until Ollric had fixed him with a stare that had driven Draugr back into their holes. The wine had been thrust into his hands and the rest was a blur. It had been a long time since Ollric had drunk himself into Oblivion. It used to be common practice for the Nord. Pouring bottle after bottle of the liquid brought a mind-numbing feeling that he began to crave every waking day. It blurred the edges, gave him his very own pair or rose-tinted glasses. Most importantly, it kept the nightmares at bay. But eventually, the nightmares that haunted him faded away into ghosts and whispers in his ears until Ollric found he didn't have much left to fear at all. Once these dark dreams left his head, so did the need for the liquid courage.

He did a quick sweep of the room. Smashed glass littered the floor, burnt embers of a fire long gone out, his bow slung haphazardly under the bed and no dragon.


She had left in the night and the darkness had provided a welcome camouflage. She was safe in the shadows, she could slip into their welcome embrace like she was made of smoke. She had no idea which direction to go in, which bridges to cross or which seemingly abandoned forts to avoid. More than once her gaze drifted to the clear skies above and she could feel her heart wrenching in her chest. She longed to feel the breeze against her face again, to tumble and spin and turn like she was made of the air itself. She scowled down at the stiff and slow two legs she had been given. Useless.

Eventually the night sky bled out into a deep red and then flaming orange as the sun began to rise sleepily over the moutains. Despite the Dragonborn's taunts at her knowledge of this world, he had forgotten that Skyrim had been around longer than both of them, and thousands of years ago she flew these very skies. The world was not so different. It was difficult, yes, to discern towns from villages from cities, and each new temple she passed looked older than the other. But the sun was a constant, the sun rose in the East and every morning it beat down upon the Velothi mountains. This is where Skuldafn lay. This is where she would find Nahkriin.

Perhaps it was stupid, to walk right into the mouth of the enemy, but to her they weren't her enemies. When she learned of the betrayal she had made, her world had crumbled. Alduin had been nothing but a leader and she had always been the loyal follower. If she could just see him, talk to him, make him see that she was nothing but the faithful disciple she had always been. The Dovahkiin wouldn't understand. He wanted to destroy them all. He would have destroyed her if he'd had the chance, eaten her soul and left her bones to rot in the snow.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn't realise where she had walked until she was standing on the edge of the cliff. The water churned and thundered below her. Rivers were always in a hurry, she thought. The grass at the edge of the cliff was loose and yielding underneath her bare feet and she felt as though it would crumble if she stood there too long.

Stumped, she glanced sideways, and turned her head just in time for the arrow to sweep in front of her, the feathers kissing her cheek.

She stumbled. Spinning on the spot, eyes wide, she spotted the archer instantly. Brazenly stood on a small slope a hundred metres away. His hood was low but something about his armour seemed familiar. He notched another arrow. Panic fluttered in her chest and she backed up as much as she could. Her heel suddenly dropped downwards as the tufty grass gave way under her weight but there was nowhere else for her to go. In every direction was flat, open grassland. She was a sitting target and they both knew it. The archer began to walk towards her, his drawn bow he raised almost leisurely. As if she was a rabbit he was poaching for his supper.

She narrowed her eyes and deep beneath her cloak, a fire rose in her chest.

'Yol!'

The stream of flame erupted from her mouth as hot as molten lava. The archer tried to dive out of the way. His bow and arrow scattered across the plain. The blaze hit him in his shoulder, sending him up into the air and crashing back down in a plume of thick, black smoke. His cry out sounded oddly familiar.

She turned and ran. Barefoot, and on uncertain legs, her sprint was slow at best. Behind her she could hear the archer was quick to get back on their feet, heavy boots thudding against the soft ground. There was no time to look back, to see the archer was gaining on her, to watch as he notched a new arrow and pulled the bow taut. Keen ears heard the whistle of the arrow as it was loosed and she spun round, suddenly, yelping as the steel tip grazed her arm and took with it the top layer of skin. Still half running, half stumbling, her next step landed on nothing. She cried out in panic, her body slammed into the ground and her fingers grabbed uselessly onto the blades of weak grass. The archer slid to a halt, bow at his side, and their eyes met as the weak canyon verge gave way underneath her and she tumbled down into the roaring river below.


'You shouldn't have brought her here, Delphine!'

'I had no choice.'

'The Dragonborn will know. Alduin is on her tail.' A sigh. 'They'll all be lead straight here.'

'Let the Dragonborn come! I have a few things to say to him-,'

'Delphine! He is not our enemy.'

'He chooses his side every day that Paarthurnax is alive. And now this? Helping this abomination! He murdered Blade recruits, Esbern, soldiers recruited to help him.'

The voices sounded too close. She could feel the shift in the air as the two people spoke and moved around her. Her wrists throbbed, as if there was a great pressure on them, and she found even if she wanted to open her eyes – a tight cloth had been tied over them, rendering her in darkness. Panic washed over her in waves. She could feel bile rising up her throat before she could even think to swallow it down. She sat up and rolled. Apparently, she had been on a table or a step because hard concrete rushed up to meet her and she landed with a grunt. Vomit spewed out of her mouth, a mix of river water and dirt.

'It's awake.' The female said. 'Take her blindfold off.'

There was little light in the cavernous room to blind her as the cloth was removed but she still winced. Inhuman eyes darted around the room. It was dusty, various armour and weapons littered the floor. The few shelves were stacked full of battered books, potion vials, parchment covered in charcoal scrawls, maps dotted with red X's. She growled and tugged at her wrists but they were bound tight behind her back. A hand roughly took her arm and she was lifted up and onto a wooden chair.

Familiar armour came into view and she recognised the archer. He was a she, the same woman that had attacked the Dovahkiin in Winterhold.

The dragon snarled.

Delphine ignored it. 'What is your name, dragon?' She demanded. 'How have you come to be in this form?'

'Meys!' The hiss scraped out of her throat.

Delphine glanced at Esbern. He was holding a heavy, black leather-bound book and he hurriedly flicked through the pages. 'Er, 'fools'.' He said.

Delphine narrowed her eyes and rolled her shoulders. 'Why is Alduin looking for you?'

The dragon held Delphine's gaze with furious, burning eyes and raised her chin. 'Zu'u fen naak hin qeth.' She spat. Her throat began to glow orange.

Delphine held her gaze for a moment before turning, again, to Esbern who was searching back and forth through the pages of the book. 'I think,' he murmured. 'Oh.' His face went ashen.

'What?' Delphine snapped.

'She said, 'I will eat your bones'.'

The female Blade clenched her jaw and turned back to face the dragon, whom smirked up at her with gleaming eyes. 'Enough.' Delphine said and she raised the cloth. This time she made sure to tie one between the dragon's teeth. 'We shall see who comes to claim their prize first.'