6th of Morning Star, 4E 201
Fifteen years ago...
Lightning cracks the sky illuminating Kyra's glowing blue eyes. Her eyes were bloodshot, tear streaked and wide. The pouring rain made her dark hair cling to her face and cheeks in shadowed wisps. Thunder rolled, lightning arced again illuminating the huge, old dragon sitting atop his favorite perch.
"Why me?!" She screams at the motionless dragon.
"Dez nis kos vonun nol. One cannot hide from their destiny. It is your destiny to fight Alduin as it is Alduin's to usher in the new kalpa."
"Mighty Grandmaster Paarthurnax, some master! My friends died for this! For you!" She yells as she stabs a gloved finger in his direction, her sword hanging limply in her off hand. Blood dripped freely over her hand and down the blade from a large gash in her upper arm.
Lightning filled the sky illuminating the ground around Kyra's feet where two bodies lay, burned and mangled. Lydia's body lay swiped with claw marks, flesh smoldering, her head was resting only a few feet away. Athis's body was burnt beyond recognition, only his Skyforged steel blade still glinted in the harsh lightning. The nearly indestructible weapon was still clutched in his right hand and his left arm was missing.
"Arhk joor vennesetiid oblaan."
"Ahzid wuth dovah." Kyra spits at the ground as she glares up at him.
"The battle is not over yet, Dovahkiin. Alduin lives. You must-"
Kyra shakes her head from side to side and tosses her bloody Skyforged blade at the base of the Word Wall. Turning her back to the dragon and the bodies, she walks away.
5th of Sun's Height, 4E 216
"Seven thousand steps." Farkas groans again, turning his face against the cold biting wind.
They had journeyed through Ivarstead by carriage, when they arrived they had built a litter to carry the prone Dragonborn. Minette and Farkas carried her through town over the bridge and had struggled and fought their way up the steps to High Hrothgar.
It was cold, the wind seemed to ignore their fur cloaks and travel right to the bone. Mirabelle's face was reddened from the wind and her lips had chapped, she had long ago stopped talking and burrowed herself into her furs. The only person who seemed unaffected was the Dragonborn, who seemed not to notice despite being draped in nothing except a cloak made from a bear.
"We're almost there." Minette says, stumbling for the countless time and barely catching the wooden handles of the litter before it tipped and dumped Kyra onto the ground.
As they came through a narrow canyon of sorts and rounded a ridge, High Hrothgar began to grow in the view ahead. This spurred them on and soon they were clattering and huffing up the steps. Farkas maneuvered himself so he could hold the handle with the other on his knee and wrapped one steel armored fist against the massive iron door.
After waiting a moment, he growled in frustration and put his shoulder to it. The door swings open slamming against the wall as they hurried in. As they clamored into the Main Hall disrupting the silence with the sounds of cursing, boot falls, and a howling wind, a cloaked figure appeared in the firelight.
Minette looks up, struggling to grasp the litter's handle.
"Hello, uh honored Greybeard. We request-" The hooded figure looks down at the gurney.
"You must leave, the Dragonborn is not welcome here." Arngeir turns to walk away and Farkas growls.
"Hey! Come back here." More of the Greybeards appear as Farkas takes a few steps closer.
"No! The Dragonborn sought power over knowledge and she is not welcome here!"
"Arngeir." Another figure cautions, raising a sleeved hand.
"She doesn't need to see you, she needs to see the dragon." Minette pleads looking from one hooded face to the next.
"I will not-" Wulfgar interrupts Arngeir with a raised hand.
"Arngeir this is not our way, we must not interfere. You may pass through the hall." Wulfgar gestures to the set of double doors leading to the courtyard.
Minette and Farkas pick up the litter and follow Wulfgar through the doors and back into the freezing snow and howling wind. Wulfgar leads them up the long path, shoes crunching in the fresh snow, and gestures at the massive iron gate.
"If you feel you must journey to the Grandmaster, that is the way you must go. Be warned, the path is treacherous and the air is frigid." With a wave of his hand the gate creaks open, without another word Wulfgar turns and walks inside.
Minette looks at Mirabelle, they exchange glances and Mirabelle nods in confirmation. She then looks at Farkas who was staring up at the long path, Minette clears her throat.
"Alright, who wants to climb the treacherous mountain with the fire breathing dragon first?"
The climb to the peak was as brutal as Wulfgar promised. The wind bit at their skin and threatened to blow them off the side of the ridge. The path was rocky and treacherous, lined with sharp rocks and snow pits that hid deep holes just wide enough for someone's boot.
They stumbled and cursed, all the while Kyra slumbered peacefully, only stopping to occasionally pull back the fur blanket and check on her. Her skin was searing hot to the touch and despite the numbing cold, she was drenched in sweat.
The group struggled up the steep grade towards the summit, past loose piles of rocks and soon they crested the summit.
As they came over the incline a strange calm filled the air. The wind stopped, the air stiffened, it wasn't hot or cold it just was. Farkas pulls back his fur hood, his eyes coming to rest on the old stone Word Wall. There was no sound, and from where he stood he could see all of Skyrim.
From his perch on top of the Word Wall, the dragon slowly unfurled his wings and stretched to his full size.
"Strangers approach." The low voice growls then sniffs the air with a huff.
"And the Dovahkiin." Paarthurnax adds, lowering his long neck towards them.
Minette swallows then squares her shoulders and steps forward.
"She's sick, something is wrong. She's out of control."
"Every time she wakes up she tries to kill us." Farkas chimes in stepping forward beside Minette.
"And after the...explosion of light, she's younger." Mirabelle adds, speaking for the first time in hours.
Paarthurnax looks at them, staring unblinking motionless.
"Bormahu alok." The group looks at each other, and Mirabelle's eyebrows rise quizzically.
"Father rises?" She asks looking up into the unblinking eyes of the scarred, old dragon. Minette glances sideways at her.
"You speak dragon?" She asks in a hushed tone.
"A little. Kyra taught me some when I helped her search for the Gauldur Amulet." Belle replies, returning Minette's sideways glance.
"The Dovahkiin is a child of Akatosh our Father. Tiid. Like all Dov before her, she is attuned to the flow of Time." Paarthurnax explains, adjusting his talons on his perch.
"If the Aspect within her awakens— Nii krent. She has become disconnected from the flow of Time."
"How can we help her?" Minette asks the old dragon blinks at her.
"I do not know."
"I do." A voice comes from behind them.
The group turns as a hooded figure moves from around a rock formation, behind the rocks rested a tent made from white furs rendering it almost unseen. The figure was lithe, clad completely in black, and barely made a sound in the fluffy snow as it approached.
Pushing back the hood, the figure reveals a pretty face, a cascade of shimmering black hair and deep, ice blue eyes. Mirabelle gasps, moving a step back from the figure.
"Serana." She whispers softly, Minette looking from her to the young woman.
"You know her?" Belle nods, her eyes wide.
"She's a vampire. A Royal vampire." Serana raises a finger in contention as Farkas draws his sword. She steps back on one foot making herself smaller and her hand falls to the pommel of her sword.
"Ah-former Royal vampire, notice the eyes and lack of fangs. So, you know, easy there big fella." She replies with a small smirk.
"What could you possibly know about this?" Minette asks, a suspicious tone in her voice.
"I'm a lot older than you, and I remember a time when a race of people had the technology to tinker with the flow of Time."
"Who?" Belle asks taking a step forward, back into the group.
"The Dwemer. Not only that but I think I know how to fix it, with the help of a Master Wizard." Serana replies looking at Mirabelle.
"How?" Mirabelle asks arching an eyebrow at the notion of the Dwemer.
"We'll need a forge, one of the most powerful forges in Tamriel."
"How did you find us here?" Minette chimes in.
"I've lived a long life, and when you get to my age you seek out people with things like that in common. Well, people or dragons as the case may be."
"So this is all just a big coincidence?" Minette asks incredulously.
Serana's eyes take on a far-off look, and she smiles a wistful smile. Serana could feel it on the wind, destiny was at hand and adventure was afoot. She breaks the silence after a long moment.
"Oh, I doubt that very much."