On my way out of the temple the next morning, I mine the various ore veins that are scattered through the cave and take all the valuable things the Forsworn had left in their camp. Outside, we re-join the road, and head off back towards Whiterun. We haven't travelled far when a small group of wolves pit their teeth against our weapons, losing their lives in the attempt. Passing a Dunmer muttering about joining the Legion, we reach the pass through the mountains separating Whiterun from the Reach, to encounter a trio of Legionaries attacking an equal number of Stormcloaks. I hang back, unwilling to get caught in the crossfire, and watch with dismay as the Imperial soldiers win. They head off up the road into Falkreath Hold, and I loot the bodies they leave before continuing my journey.
Dodging a giant wandering with a painted cow at the crossroad, we also pass a mercenary and a pair of farmers before another couple of wolves attack us. Skinning their corpses doesn't take long, and straightening from my task, I pull out a little food from my bag to eat while making my way towards the central city.
Reaching the great wooden gates of Whiterun, we pass through into the quiet city and stop at the various shops, selling them the various wares that they specialise in so as to get the best prices. Soon, my bag is empty of loot, and I lead Lydia back out of the city and continue along the road and across the bridge. We soon reach the goat track across the north-eastern arm of the Throat of the World, but before we have travelled very far along it we come across a horse, standing over the body of a man wearing the armour of a bandit.
I consider taking the horse, but it would be unfair to expect Lydia to run alongside while I ride, so instead, I give it a pat on the neck before continuing along the path etched into the snow. Descending back below the snowline, I notice what seems to be the remains of a tollbooth. Exploring the scattered bricks, I find a book and a lockbox hidden beneath a basket, containing a little gold.
We find Ivarstead to be much as we left it, and the journey up the Steps is as quiet as our previous trip a couple of days ago. We soon reach the cold stone of High Hrothgar. Inside, we find Arngeir sitting in one of the stone chairs. He raises his head as we approach.
"Sky above, Voice within." He greets us.
Bowing my head in response, I get straight to the point. "I need to learn the Shout used to defeat Alduin."
Arngeir's face darkens. "Where did you learn of that? Who have you been talking to?"
"The Blades helped me find out about it."
"The Blades! Of course. They specialise in meddling in matters they barely understand. Their reckless arrogance knows no bounds. They have always sought to turn the Dragonborn from the path of wisdom. Have you learned nothing from us? Would you simply be a tool in the hands of the Blades to be used for their own purposes?"
"The Blades are helping me; I'm not their puppet!" I snap back.
"No, no; of course not – forgive me, Dragonborn, I have been intemperate with you. But heed my warning – the Blades may say they serve the Dragonborn, but they do not. They never have."
"So can you teach me this Shout?" I ask again.
"No." Answers the Greybeard. "I cannot teach it to you because I do not know it. It is called 'Dragonrend', but its Words of Power are unknown to us. We do not regret this loss. Dragonrend holds no place within the Way of the Voice."
"If the Shout is lost, how can I defeat Alduin?" It seems it is hopeless after all, then.
"Only Paarthurnax, the master of our order, can answer that question, if he so chooses." Arngeir says. Paarthurnax – that sounds a hell of a lot like a dragon's name.
"I need to speak to Paarthurnax, then."
"You weren't ready. You still aren't ready. But, thanks to the Blades, you now have questions that only Paarthurnax can answer." Arngeir is stalling.
"Who is Paarthurnax?" Lydia asks.
"He is our leader. He surpasses us all in his mastery of the Way of the Voice." That answers nothing.
"Why haven't I met Paarthurnax yet?" Maybe he's just a human using an alias to sound more dangerous. Unlikely though, knowing this place.
"He lives in seclusion on the very peak of the mountain. He speaks to us only rarely, and never to outsiders. Being allowed to see him is a great privilege."
"How do I get to the top of the mountain to see him?"
"Only those whose Voice is strong can find the path. Come – we will teach you a Shout to open the way to Paarthurnax." With that, Arngeir rises from his seat and leads us into the courtyard, over to the brazier at the far end, near the steps up to a stone archway. The archway is blocked by a magical wind, and I can see large flecks of ice dashing through the fierce air.
"The path to Paarthurnax lies through this gate." Arngeir says as he and the other Greybeards, who had also followed us out, encircled the fire. "I will show you how to open the way." He mutters three Words into the stone floor. Standing on each one I learn the Words – 'Lok', 'Vah' and 'Koor'.
"I will grant you my understanding of Clear Skies. This is your final gift from us, Dragonborn. Use it well." Arngeir continues, bowing as the knowledge flows from him and into me, warming me to the bone and washing away the cold of the mountainside. Now I know how this Shout can shoo away the clouds, baring the sun to cast its pure light.
"Clear Skies will blow away the mist, but only for a time." Arngeir informs me as I prepare for my journey up to the frozen summit of the lofty mountain. "The path to Paarthurnax is perilous; not to be embarked on lightly. Keep moving, stay focused on your goal, and you will reach the summit." The Greybeards began to disperse.
Climbing to the top of the stairs, I take a deep breath.
"Lok Vah Koor!" I Shout into the wind, and stumble as the force of my Shout blasts the wind away. Beyond, the rocky mountain trail is also cleared, for some of the way at least, of the grey mist barring our view of the path. Looks like I'm going to be doing a lot of Shouting along this trek.
A little way along, we find a silver vein peeking through the snow. I mine a little of it before the mist returns, then continue our loud journey – until we are attacked by a flying snake-like creature made of ice. An ice wraith! These things are notoriously difficult to dispose of. My orcish sword in one hand and a healing spell in the other, I dive into the fray, swinging at the undulating creature as it swoops in to attack with its razor-sharp icicle-teeth.
After taking many hits, and quite a few myself, the ice wraith finally melts into a viscous blue puddle at my feet, with only its teeth remaining solid, sticking out of the middle of the goo. Collecting some of the goo into one of the potion bottles I'd emptied during our fight and the teeth, we continue down the path – and soon after encounter another ice wraith. Dammit!
After what feels like hours, the wraith forms another puddle, and Lydia and I are healing our wounds as we stumble on. Another Shout reveals an orichalcum vein, which I mine a little before continuing on, the sun finally sinking below the western mountains. We haven't climbed much farther after the sky darkens completely when yet another ice wraith twists up from the frozen earth. Sighing, I ready my weapon and prepare to fight again. Gods, my arms are tired.
Leaving the puddle of ice wraith behind, we soon come to the end of our trek – at another gate like the one at High Hrothgar. Shouting through this one, we enter a flat area with a broken Word Wall at one end and the rocky peak at the other. Lydia jumps and almost draws her bow when, with a great roar, a tattered golden dragon flies overhead and lands on the small plateau in front of us. I was right – Paarthurnax is a dragon's name.
"Drem yol lok. Greetings, wunduniik. I am Paarthurnax." The great old creature greets us in its deep rumbling voice. "Who are you? What brings you to my strunmah – my mountain?"
"I think you already know who I am." I respond. I'm too cold and tired to talk for long, but I sense that this will not be a short conversation.
"Yes. Vahzah. You speak true, Dovahkiin. Forgive me. It has been long since I held tinvaak with a stranger. I gave in to the temptation to prolong our speech."
"I need to learn the Dragonrend Shout. Can you teach me?"
"Drem. Patience. There are formalities which must be observed at the first meeting of two of the dov." I'm beginning to think that I'll never learn this darned Shout. "By long tradition, the elder speaks first. Hear my Thu'um! Feel it in your bones! Match it, if you are Dovahkiin!" Paarthurnax turns towards the broken Wall and Shouts at the stone, a great bout of flame leaving behind an etched Word. Approaching curiously, I discover the Word to be 'Yol'. Fire.
"A gift, Dovahkiin." Growls Paarthurnax behind me. "Yol. Understand fire as the dov do." The ancient dragon gives me his knowledge of the Word, teaching me how to burn my enemies to cinders in one violent breath. "Now, show me what you can do. Greet me not as elf, but as dovah!"
He seems to expect me to use it on him! Oh well, it can't do the great beast much harm.
"Yol!" A small blast of fire shimmers across the dragon's scaly hide for a couple of seconds, and Paarthurnax seems to grin, flashing blunted teeth.
"Ah, yes! Sossedov los mul. The Dragon Blood runs strong in you. It is long since I had the pleasure of speech with one of my own kind." He takes off, flying briefly to land on the top of the broken arm of the Word Wall. "So, you have made your way here, to me. No easy task for a joor – a mortal. Even for one of the Dovah Sos – Dragon Blood. What would you ask of me?"
Does everyone in this frozen place have short term amnesia? "Can you teach me the Dragonrend Shout?"
"Ah, I have expected you. Prodah. You would not come all this way for tinvaak with an old dovah. No; you seek your weapon against Alduin." For Gods' sake!
"How did you know I came for Dragonrend?" I force myself to be patient.
"Alduin komeyt tiid. What else would you seek? Alduin and Dovahkiin return together. But, I do not know the Thu'um you seek. Krosis – it cannot be known to me. Your kind – joorre – mortals – created it as a weapon against the dov – the dragons. Our hadrimme, our minds cannot even…comprehend its concepts." Paarthurnax replies regretfully.
"How can I learn it then?"
"Drem. All in good time. First, a question for you – why do you want to learn this Thu'um?"
"I like this world. I don't want it to end." Not to mention the thought of an apocalypse frightens me to the core. I've already lived twice through what felt like one; I don't want to see the real thing.
"Pruzah. As good a reason as any. There are many who feel as you do, although not all. Some would say that all things must end so that the next can come to pass." Paarthurnax theorises. "Perhaps this world is simply the egg of the next kalpa? Lein vokiin? Would you stop the next world from being born?"
"The next world will have to take care of itself." I respond.
"Paaz; a fair answer. Ro fus… maybe you only balance the forces that work to quicken the end of this world. Even we who ride the currents of Time cannot see past time's end. Wuldsetiid los tahrodiis. Those who try to hasten the end may delay it; those who work to delay the end may bring it closer. But you have indulged my weakness for speech long enough. Krosis. Now I will answer your question. Hmm… do you know why I live here, at the peak of the Monahven – what you name Throat of the World?"
"No…dragons like mountains, right?"
"True." Paarthurnax agrees. "But few now remember that this was the very spot where Alduin was defeated by the ancient Tongues. Vahrukt Unslaad – perhaps none but me now remember how he was defeated."
"Using the Dragonrend Shout, right?" I say, knowing in my heart that that isn't the whole answer. Things are never easy.
"Yes and no. Viik nuz nii kron. Alduin was not truly defeated, either." Knew it. "If he was, you would not be here today seeking to… defeat him. The Nords of those days used the Dragonrend Shout to cripple Alduin. But this was not enough. Ok mulaag unslaad. It was the Kel – the Elder Scroll. They used it to… cast him adrift on the currents of Time."
"Are you saying the ancient Nords sent Alduin forward in time?" So this mess is their fault.
"Not intentionally." Paarthurnax rumbles. "Some hoped he would be gone forever; forever lost. Meyye. I knew better. Tiid bo amativ. Time flows ever onward. One cay he would surface; which is why I have lived here, for thousands of mortal years I have waited. I knew where he would emerge, but not when."
"How does any of this help me?" I ask, a little irritated now, not to mention frozen. I wiggle my toes in my boots and flex my fingers, hoping I don't get frostbite.
"Tiid krent. Time was… shattered here because of what the ancient Nords did to Alduin. If you brought that Kel – that Elder Scroll back here to the Tiid Ahraan, the Time-Wound…with the Elder Scroll that was used to break time, you may be able to… cast yourself back to the other end of the break. You could learn Dragonrend from those who created it."
An Elder Scroll! Does this mean I have to go all the way to the Imperial City in Cyrodiil to find it? Unlikely – they were scattered somehow during the Great War. It's amazing how one little word or phrase can cause more memories to resurface. Even then, not all the Elder Scrolls were in the Imperial Library in the first place. The one Paarthurnax is referring to might not even have been rediscovered yet.
"Do you know where I can find an Elder Scroll?"
"Krosis. No. I know little of what has passed below in the long years I have lived here. You are likely better informed than I."
"Hmm… Esbern or Arngeir might have some idea." Lydia mentions. Arngeir is closer – I can ask him.
"Trust your instincts, Dovahkiin. Your blood will show you the way."
Taking my leave of the ancient dragon, I Shout our way back down the mountain trail to High Hrothgar. It's almost midnight when we reach the bronzed doors, and I am exhausted. I know I'll wake early though, no matter how late I fall asleep.
I find some beds in the opposite wing to where I entered. I ask a Greybeard, who is sitting nearby, if I can borrow one of the beds. He silently nods in assent, and I doff the more solid pieces of my armour before lying down on one of the bedroll-covered stone slabs. Sleep, thankfully, comes quickly.