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Posted March 25, 2014
SUMMARY: Harry discovers an extra passenger has returned with them to Skyrim; a meeting with the Greybeards sends both Harry and Mazhe to speak with their master, which results in a deadly confrontation with Alduin; a discussion in the chest much later results in unexpected visitors; and Harry is finally emotionally overwhelmed by the series of events which unfolded in short succession...
31: OVERWHELMED
11 – 14 Hearthfire, 4E201
Harry watched with a scowl on his face as the portal collapsed, leaving no evidence in the College courtyard that it had ever existed. He momentarily debated about remaining at the College for the time being, but then changed his mind.
"Best return to the Ragged Flagon for now, let Remus know what's going on."
"It's your show, Harry," said Justin.
Harry frowned again, then picked up a stone from the snow-covered ground. "Portus."
Moments later, they collected themselves off the ground, and after giving a wave to Syndis (the fletcher who had set up shop in one of the alcoves just outside the tavern), they entered Remus' apartment.
"You've returned rather early," said Remus, surprised at the unexpected visit. His features darkened, noting the group's dishevelled appearance. "Something happened."
"The Commonwealth was forced to close up both portals just a few minutes ago," Justin explained, "For now, we're cut off, until they re-establish another portal."
"What forced them to do so?"
"The villa was again invaded this morning by dark wizards. While we fought them off for the most part, one of them managed to sneak past security and travel through the portal back to Trevelyan," Justin explained, "The individual was not seen until just a little while ago. In other words, they'd been in the Magnus Chamber for nearly two hours without being seen."
"Bloody hell... most secure room in the Commonwealth, and someone that dark was wandering around without impunity?" Harry wasn't impressed.
"You see the problem. Far worse, they managed to vanish just after they were discovered, after murdering two members of the security team. It's still not known how they managed to escape, it's not possible to Apparate or port key from that room."
Justin blew out a breath.
"Once they realized what was going on, well, you guys now know the rest."
"How long before they will reestablish a portal?" Remus questioned.
"It could be hours, it could be days, weeks, months. Honestly, I can't tell you really."
"It was unwise of them to just seal up the portal, considering we're a lot safer here than back in the Commonwealth. The Queen and vital government members should have been sent here first."
"They have a set of protocols they follow," Justin answered, "Sending her majesty here would have been against protocol."
"And following protocol will sometimes end in disaster," Harry said, with a scowl. "Either way, I plan on vanishing into the Virtual Projection Room for a few hours. Mental exercises that were abandoned this morning, I would see it corrected."
The chest was quickly produced and expanded, then rested against the wall in the office, before they all piled in. And inside, Harry received yet another shock.
"All is well?" Varro questioned, seated at the table. Pietros sat across from him, as they ate breakfast, which awaited with a warming charm.
Harry wanted to bang his head against a wall. The blond-haired gladiator now stood in Harry's shoes, in exactly his circumstance as it had been a year prior. Isolated, over two thousand years into the future and into a strange world, with perhaps one person he knew. Sure, at this point he also knew Harry, but Harry was not of Varro's world. Far worse, in Varro's case, there would be no rescue, no one would come looking for him.
"Something has happened?" Pietros asked, seeing the dark look on Harry's face.
"We have returned to Skyrim and the portals have both been closed. We will never return to Capua," Harry answered, practically falling onto one of the comfortable chairs. "One of the dark mages that attacked the villa earlier managed to enter the portal back to Trevelyan."
"Would the guards have not captured him?" asked Pietros.
"The individual vanished almost instantly once he was discovered," Justin answered.
"What if... they got their hands on one of our phones? What it sounds like," said Tommy.
"I still have mine," said Harry, easily locating his.
"And mine," said Justin.
"I returned mine, if you will remember," said Varro.
"I still posses mine," said Miraak.
"I..." Pietros searched himself frantically. "It has escaped my grasp," he said, alarmed.
"Pietros. Do not blame yourself. It's catastrophic, but... it's not your fault," said Justin.
"Gods... whoever these dark mages are... he could go anywhere," Harry realized.
"Not without the mobile network, the new protocol requires the network, just like the other features. They shut down the primary network just after they called me. Only a few mobiles still work at this point, the new phones not included."
"And as soon as they re-enable it, they work again. Does the government know about that?"
"...no. Just my department, and the Arcane Sciences department."
"Great. We have a terrorist mage from two thousand years in the past, in their possession an experimental port key device that can violate just about every protection ward in existence," Harry muttered, "What about the Fidelius Charm?"
"Likely it would hold, Harry. You have to have knowledge of a place before you can get there, right?"
"What is a Fidelius Charm?" Miraak questioned.
"It's a secrecy charm put on a place or object, with someone being named a 'secret-keeper'. Others can know the secret, but only the secret-keeper can tell others about it. It's a very secure charm that under normal circumstances is nearly impossible to defeat—"
"Unless the secret-keeper is a bloody traitor," Harry muttered.
"Yes, perhaps the only flaw in the charm. So no, the phones can't bypass that sort of security," said Justin.
"Apologies. I did not mean—" Pietros began.
"Pietros. We do not fault you. It could have been me in your place," said Harry, gently.
"Thing is, it's done, right? You'll just drive yourselves crazy over-analyzing shit. C'mon, let's get cleaned up and move on with our missed exercises," Tommy decided.
"Good plan," Harry agreed.
That afternoon, with the others tied up with other activities, Harry created a port key which carried him back to the Skaal Village. The previous day's high had been tempered by that morning's terrible loss. He'd been forever severed from a group of warrior friends. Though he knew it would come eventually, it had been so sudden—so abrupt, there had been barely a chance to give his farewells. He knew Spartacus would do it for him, but it was still not quite the same.
Not to mention, there had been a few loose threads he'd not been able to tie up, namely the man they had captured. Of course, it was more than likely that Batiatus would see the intruder's end—likely rather painfully. But it was still not as satisfying as ensuring of it in person. Then there was the little blonde snake. There had been no 'insurance package' set up, since Harry had believed it not to be an urgent matter to deal with. In hindsight, that should have been included in the package he'd given to Spartacus.
Harry blew out a breath, and bundled up his cloak—being in Capua for so long, he'd forgotten how cold it was in Skyrim (or in Solstheim, for that matter). A strong warming charm saw him once again comfortable.
"Greetings, friend."
"And find the greeting returned, Frea," Harry answered, warmly, " I seek the company of Sahrotaar. Might you have seen him?"
"He rests near the Wind Stone. You are troubled?"
"I am with heavy heart at the loss of many friends this day. I would take to the skies and leave grotiin lor au golt—heavy thoughts on the ground."
The walk to the Wind Stone was rather brief, and there, indeed, he found the serpentine dragon, perched on top of it.
"Hail, friend of thuri."
"Greetings, Sahrotaar. If I could ask a favour?"
"You need only ask."
"I would welcome your company as I take to the skies."
The dragon lifted off a moment, to land a few feet in front of the young mage.
"Climb aboard, and I will be your wings."
"Gratitude," said Harry, as he climbed on. They took flight at once.
"Your heart is heavy."
"Gods. The evidence is so easily read?"
"It is so."
"As I said to Frea, I lost a lot of friends this morning."
"In grah—battle?"
"No. Thankfully and by small consolation, not so. But partly as a result. I am now forever prevented from visiting their place, their world. I wish with all my heart that this were false, but know it was an eventual outcome. I had wished for there to be more time, before I said farewell for the final time. But..." Harry sighed. "Tiid bo amativ.(1)"
"Indeed it does. None of us can escape it, dov or joor."
Silence fell over the pair as they passed over the island. As much as Harry tried to think of other matters, it still came back to the events of that morning, a jarring, crushing blow to his emotions. Far worse, they'd accidentally brought Varro with them, and he would never return home. The attempt would likely land them years later. It had taken the Commonwealth a year to connect with him—though it had in reality only taken them hours. And really, the Commonwealth now had much larger issues than working to restore a portal. The dark wizard most likely knew how to use the phone's new port key features, considering how he'd just vanished from a room that was secured against port key and apparition. How would the dark wizard use it against them? That was the million-Septim question. No matter what, it would likely never end well.
His thoughts turned to the pressing issue in Tamriel: the return of Alduin. Perhaps that was the reason he'd been forced back. The gods wanted to ensure everyone stayed on the right path and all that rot. Harry truly feared for his mate now. An ancient prophecy was unfolding, with Mazhe right in the middle of it—no different than the prophecy in which Harry had a part to play in. Both of them had mortal enemies, with there being no guarantee of victory against either.
"How strong is Alduin?" Harry at last questioned. They had flown out over the Water Stone on Solstheim's west coast, and now circled back around.
"He is the first-born of Akatosh, Harry. He came before all of us. But his true power us unknown to me, since Miraak became my master before the first dragon war."
"I truly fear for Mazhe. He is dragonborn, yet, Miraak carries far more power."
"You underestimate the power of dovahkiin, young mage," Sahrotaar answered, "He is one all of us dov have come to fear."
"Because he can consume your very soul."
"Yes. It is exactly because of that. With Miraak as a guide, your mate will only gain power. Though you and the rest of those around him need keep him on the path he is destined to follow."
"And my friends do the same for me," said Harry.
"Indeed, your connection with the demon of forbidden knowledge must be used carefully, lest you fall under his spell, such as Miraak did."
"I'm always weary of having contact with him." Harry thought for a moment. "Does Alduin have any sort of weakness?"
"There is one weakness, though it would extend to all of us, and I have only heard whispers of it. A thu'um, capable of knocking one of us from the sky for a time. Dragon... rend." The dragon seemed troubled even trying to say it.
"Dragonrend?"
"Yes. I do not know the shout, but perhaps, Miraak may know of it."
"But... what about bend will? Would that work against him?"
Sahrotaar let out a chuckle. "Unlikely, young mage."
They returned to the Wind Stone just as the sun was setting, and Harry thanked the dragon for the ride, before returning to Remus' apartment by port key. From there, he descended into the chest.
"Feeling better?" Justin asked. He was seated on one of the couches, his notebook computer open and a pile of notes scattered in front of him.
"Somewhat. Where's Mazhe? I've got some new information to share."
"He's in the Virtual Projection Room with Miraak."
"Right."
"What kind of information?"
"A possible way to defeat Alduin." Harry glanced around. "Where did Pietros and Varro go?"
"Working with Tommy. Mazhe took them into the training area in the cistern."
Harry frowned. "I'm sure Mercer really appreciated that."
Harry found Mazhe and Miraak working in what looked like a miniature replica of a room from Apocrypha. A large table was set up, containing a number of books, including the two black books the group had collected. One of them lay open, and Mazhe was reading from it, but both looked up hearing the door close.
"Dragonrend," Harry said, simply.
Mazhe looked confused, but Miraak gave a nod.
"Hakon and the rest, they knew it. I, do not."
"What does it do?" Mazhe asked.
"This I also do not know. Perhaps, we should speak to the Greybeards. I know things far beyond their purview, and yet... they also know many things beyond mine, perhaps this, being one of them."
"Sahrotaar says the shout can knock a dragon out of the sky, ground it for a time."
"Then it is a shout we must learn," said Mazhe.
"It is after sunset. We will break words with Arngeir tomorrow after morning exercises," Harry decided. "It is late to be calling on them today."
"Gods, we've been at this all afternoon?" At that remark, Mazhe felt his stomach growl. "I think a good warm meal is in order before anything else."
"Agreed. Leave the room as is, guys."
For the first time in some time, the group, now nearly double its size, took a meal in the Ragged Flagon. A table had been enlarged with appropriate seating to accommodate, and Vekel welcomed the assistance of Dobby to put the meal together.
"So. Did flying around on the back of a dragon all afternoon clear your head?" Tommy asked. That got surprised looks from both Varro and Pietros.
"Somewhat. Sahrotaar was rather helpful, pointing us in the direction of a shout that may cripple a dragon. Though he had difficulty just saying it—dragonrend. It was as though, just the words frighten him."
"There are truly dragons here?" Pietros dared ask.
"Very much so. All but a few—and only one that we know personally—are powerful enemies. A very long time ago, they ruled over this world, holding everyone in it as slaves. A number of very brave people stood up against them, and finally found a way to break free from them, and at least for a time, defeat the worst of them all: Alduin, the world-eater," Harry explained.
"It now falls to me to stop him for good," Mazhe picked up, "Much as Harry has a prophecy over his head, I now have one over mine."
"But neither of you have to go it alone," said Justin, "God, the pair of you grew up around me."
"And you guys are pretty much family to me now," Tommy threw in, "Not like I'll ever say I won't help."
"A dragon though..." Varro seemed to think a moment. "It is only right that I lend hands to purpose, seeing as you saved my life not so long ago, Harry."
"As I also lend hands to purpose," said Pietros.
"Just be aware that, no matter what dangers you have faced on the sands of the arena, they will pale in comparison to the dangers you will face here in Skyrim. There are things far more dangerous than an opponent who bares teeth and draws steel."
"A case in point," said Mazhe, pointing to the three scars that marred his face. "An encounter with some of the friendly wildlife here left me these."
"Friendly and wildlife... those words shouldn't be used in the same sentence, when it comes to Skyrim," Harry muttered.
It was the middle of the following morning before the expanded group at last took a port key up to High Hrothgar to seek out Arngeir. They found the elderly man in the courtyard, practising the thu'um, his voice echoing across the grounds like thunder. For now, both Varro and Pietros were left in the chest.
"Dovahkiin," said Arngeir, bowing.
"Drem yol lok, Arngeir. I would introduce Miraak, another dragonborn."
"Welcome." Arngeir bowed again. "What brings you back to High Hrothgar?"
"We come seeking the shout that was used to defeat Alduin."
Arngeir immediately looked angry. "Where did you learn that? Who have you been talking to?" he demanded.
"It was my doing, sir," Harry answered, "I have broken words with Sahrotaar, a dragon ally. He spoke of a shout able to force a dragon to the ground for a time... though he did not know of the words themselves. He called it..."
"Dragonrend," Arngeir finished.
"Sahrotaar was frightened just to speak its name."
"It does not matter," said Miraak, "Hakon and the others knew it. Tell us, Greybeard elder, are you able to teach us?"
Arngeir let out a sigh. "No, I cannot teach it to you, because its words of power are unknown to us. We do not regret this loss. Dragonrend holds no place within the Way of the Voice.
"Sahrotaar would be afraid of it, and for good reason. It was created by those who had lived under the unimaginable cruelty of Alduin's Dragon Cult. Their whole lives were consumed with hatred for dragons, and they poured all their anger and hatred into this Shout. When you learn a shout, you take it into your very being. In a sense, you become the Shout. In order to learn and use this Shout, you will be taking this evil into yourself."
"So we find ourselves back at square one," Harry muttered.
"Unless you have suggestions, Arngeir," said Mazhe, furrowing his brows. This was not turning out anything like they'd planned. Didn't the Greybeards know everything when it came to the voice?
"To get the answers you seek, you must travel to the top of the mountain and speak to our master, Paarthurnax."
"Paarthurnax," Harry sounded out. "He... he's a dragon."
"Indeed," said Arngeir, "He speaks to us only rarely, and never to outsiders. Being allowed to see him is a great privilege."
"Then how do we get there?" Mazhe asked.
Arngeir looked very uncomfortable at the idea of letting the group go up to the summit, but realized there was little choice in the matter. Mazhe had been given the gift of the voice in order to defeat Alduin... and learning the 'Dragonrend' shout was part of the path. He let out a sigh.
"Only those whose Voice is strong can find the path. Come. We will teach you a Shout to open the way to Paarthurnax."
A few minutes later, the rather large group was gathered near a set of steps that led up to an archway. Just beyond, lay howling wind from which the mere sight sent shivers down Harry's back.
"Lok..." Arngeir whispered, and a series of letters etched themselves in the snow, casting an orange glow in opposition to the morning sun.
"Vah..." another series of letters also etched themselves in the snow.
"Koor..." A final series of letters appeared in the snow. Mazhe stepped onto the first set, and like they'd seen more than a few times already, a swirling mass of energy burrowed itself into Mazhe's chest. He moved on to the next word, while Miraak took his place, with an identical storm of energy burrowing into him.
As Miraak absorbed the last word, Arngeir spoke, "I will grant you my understanding of Clear Skies. This is your final gift from us, Mazhe. Use it well."
Mazhe again felt momentarily light-headed, feeling a surge of power burrow into him, and with it, came the knowledge of the three words he'd just absorbed: Lok vah koor—sky spring summer. Taking a moment, he turned to Miraak. "Ready?"
"I am ready."
Mazhe bowed as Arngeir did, and a surge of energy connected between the two dragonborn. Arngeir looked quite impressed, and somewhat awed. Up to that point, there was no indication the second man was truly dragonborn. Yet, seeing him learn the words and absorb the knowledge exactly as Mazhe had, all but confirmed it. Two dragonborn present at once in the same location. It was unprecedented!
"We'd best carry on, guys. Sooner we get the information we need, the sooner we can put Alduin to grass."
"The path to Paarthurnax is perilous, but keep moving, and you'll reach the summit," said Arngeir. Mazhe and Miraak were already climbing the steps to the archway.
"Ready?" Miraak gave a nod, and both shouted together, "Lok VAH KOOOR!"
Their voices echoed like a crack of thunder, and the swirling storm of ice rapidly faded, revealing the pathway up the side of the mountain.
"Gods, I could get used to that," Mazhe smirked, as the group moved onto the path.
"Our voices carry great power, Mazhe."
"All right guys, don't let it go to your heads," Harry smirked, then had to duck, as Mazhe flung a shock spell at him.
Though there were few difficulties as far as enemies were concerned, it was still a lengthy trek, and it was after lunch time before they at last reached the summit. Harry was immediately drawn to a strange spot where the air seemed to shimmer and distort, as though still influenced by the residue of a powerful spell.
"Guys. Look at this."
"Gods..." said Justin, drawing his wand, "Truly powerful magic has been cast here. This... it has to be ancient."
"A spell that would last that long? For real?" Tommy asked, arching an eyebrow.
"If the caster is strong enough, the magic can last indefinitely."
"And a word wall—"
"There is nothing to learn from it," said Miraak, "The words have deteriorated beyond legibility."
"A repair charm—"
"Wouldn't work, Harry," said Mazhe, shaking his head, "It's different magic."
Their musings were interrupted by the beating of wings. As the group now knew what to expect, they weren't surprised as a dragon landed nearby, causing the ground to shake. He looked ancient, with tattered wings, and scales that had long ago lost their lustre.
"Drem Yol Lok. Greetings, wunduniik. I am Paarthurnax. Who are you? What brings you to my strunmah ... my mountain?"
"Lok thu'um, master of the Greybeards. I am Mazhe, this is Miraak, Justin, Tommy, and Harry. We apologize for intruding, but we... Miraak and I... need to learn the Dragonrend Shout. Can you teach us?"
"Drem... Patience. There are formalities which must be observed, at the first meeting of two of the dov. By long tradition, the elder speaks first. Hear my Thu'um! Feel it in your bones. Match it, if you are Dovahkiin!"
Paarthurnax turned to face the word wall. "Yol TOOR SHUL!"
A blast of fire threatened to turn the very stone of the wall a cherry red, was the ferocity of the blast. As the blaze subsided, the previously damaged word wall now contained unblemished, and readable text that Harry was quickly putting to memory.
"Words I have neglected to teach you, Mazhe. The fire breath shout," said Miraak, as Mazhe approached the wall, and once again be inundated by a surge of magical energy.
"A gift, Dovahkiin. Yol. Understand Fire as the dov do." Another surge of magic connected with Mazhe, much as it had when Arngeir imparted his knowledge.
"Now, show me what you can do. Greet me not as mortal, but as dovah!"
"You want me to shout at you?" Mazhe arched an eyebrow. The ancient dragon said nothing, and Mazhe huffed.
"Yol!" A plume of fire exploded outward, to momentarily envelop the dragon. Rather than anger, though, the dragon was impressed.
"Aaah... yes! Sossedov los mul. The dragonblood runs strong in you. It is long since I had the pleasure of speech with one of my own kind."
The dragon appeared to think a moment.
"So. You have made your way here, to me. No easy task for a joor... mortal. Even for one of Dovah Sos. Dragonblood. What would you ask of me?"
"We need to learn the Dragonrend Shout," said Mazhe.
"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."
"And you still have not answered our question," said Miraak, "Do you know Dragonrend or not?"
"Miraak..." Mazhe hissed, turning back to Paarthurnax. "How did you know we came for Dragonrend?"
"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."
"But... why?" Harry asked, confused, "Why can a dragon not learn words that were formed in his own tongue?"
"Your kind—joorre—mortals – created it as a weapon against the dov... the dragons. Our hadrimme, our minds cannot even... comprehend its concepts."
"How might we learn this Shout, then?" questioned Miraak, furrowing his brows.
"All in good time," said Paarthurnax, "First, a question. Why do you want to learn this Thu'um?"
"I like this world. I don't want it to end," answered Mazhe, "It would mean not only my end, but the end of my friends, those I call a family."
"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. Perhaps this world is simply the Egg of the next kalpa? Lein vokiin? Would you stop the next world from being born?"
"Perhaps... the next world will have to look after itself," said Harry, with a shrug, "Our world, here in the present, is what truly matters."
"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."
Paarthurnax paused a moment.
"But you have indulged my weakness for speech long enough. Krosis. Now I will answer your question. Do you know why I live here, at the peak of the Monahven - what you name Throat of the World?"
"I—" Mazhe began, but Justin cut in, "We don't know... but would it have something to do with the most unusual remnant of ancient magic over there?"
He gestured to the strange spot where the air seemed to warp with strange magical energy.
"This is the most sacred mountain in Skyrim. Zok revak strunmah. The great mountain of the world," said Paarthurnax, "Here the ancient Tongues, the first mortal masters of the Voice, brought Alduin to battle and defeated him."
"Using the Dragonrend Shout, right?" Mazhe guessed.
"Yes and no. Viik nuz ni kron. Alduin was not truly defeated, either. 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."
"You mean... bloody hell... they... they sent him forward in time," Harry realized, "Meyye! Surely, they should have realized he would turn up eventually!"
"Some hoped he would be gone forever, forever lost. Like you, young Harry, I knew better. Tiid bo amativ. Time flows ever onward. Indeed, one day 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—" Mazhe began.
"Wait. Harry. The Elder Scroll," said Justin, "Paarthurnax, was this where they... cast Alduin adrift?"
"Indeed. Time was... shattered here, because of what the ancient Nords did to Alduin."
"Right there," said Justin, pointing to the magical anomaly.
"And the scroll itself," said Harry, reaching into his rucksack, and retrieving the scroll, "It... it would work like a time-turner."
"You could cast yourself back to the other end of the time-wound. You could learn Dragonrend from those who created it," Paarthurnax finished.
"Wait. Wouldn't that be dangerous?" Mazhe asked.
"It... I think it would be exactly like viewing a pensieve memory," Harry answered, "And really, unless you guys have a better idea, it's likely the best shot you have of learning the shout."
Mazhe let out a huff, then snatched the Elder Scroll.
"If this kills me, I'm coming back from the afterlife to kick your ass."
"The Kel - the Elder Scroll. Tiid kreh... qalos. Time shudders at its touch. There is no question. You are doom-driven. Kogaan Akatosh. The very bones of the earth are at your disposal. Go then. Fulfil your destiny. Take the Scroll to the Time-Wound. Do not delay. Alduin will be coming. He cannot miss the signs."
And now, Harry noticed the air seemed to charge with energy, like the approach of a thunderstorm. Powerful magic was at work. Equally, now, Harry had a sinking suspicion of how he'd came to be in 73 BCE Capua. If the Elder Scroll could break time itself, surely a little bit of time-travel wasn't out of the question. How long had he carried that scroll in his rucksack now?
Mazhe, meanwhile, crossed the short distance to stand in the strange warp of air, then opened the scroll. He partially faded from existence, and froze in place for what seemed like several minutes. Nearing the five minute point, he finally became solid again.
"Well?"
"Joor Zah Frul."
"Mortal Finite Temporary," Harry translated.
Mazhe gave a nod, and focused on the ground. "Joor," he whispered, but it came out as a wave, imprinting the word in the snow, much as Arngeir had done much earlier. "Zah." Another word appeared below that. "Frul" the final word formed as Miraak absorbed the first.
Once Miraak had absorbed all the words, Mazhe immediately passed his knowledge, and just in time, as something cast a shadow over them, and the ground shook, as another dragon landed nearby. Harry had seen Mazhe's memory of the attack on Helgen, but he was still shocked and stunned by the ferocious appearance. The dragon was demonic in every way imaginable—Nirn's version of the devil himself.
"Bahloki nahkip sillesejoor. My belly is full of the souls of your fellow mortals, Dovahkiin. Die now and await your fate in Sovngarde!"
"Lost funt. You are too late, Alduin! Dovahkiin! Use Dragonrend! Bring him to gol!" Paarthurnax shouted.
Mazhe and Miraak made eye contact, and turned at once to face the demon dragon.
"Joor ZAH FRUUUL!" Two cracks of thunder roared out from the pair of them, striking Alduin full on as he took flight, surrounding the dragon in a brilliant blue aura.
"Tahrodiis meyye! Meyus rot fen ni sav hi!(1)" Alduin snarled, as he plummeted to the ground in a heap. He climbed back onto clumsy limbs, and let out a scorching blast of heat.
"Bombarda maxima!" Harry snarled, sending an angry red bolt of magic toward the dragon. It struck him on the left wing, making him roar in anger as it blasted bits of scale off. Justin sent his offering, which made the dragon roar a second time—his voice coming out like a shriek.
"What twisted magic is this?!" Alduin snarled, then roared again in pain, as Tommy added his attack to the mix, courtesy of his MP5.
"Might want to try something bigger, mate," said Harry, while Mazhe and Miraak both unleashed deadly shock spells on the beast.
Alduin roared again, this time letting out yet another stream of fire which narrowly missed Justin. Mazhe answered that with another shock spell.
"Alduin, ziil los dii du!" Miraak tried.
Alduin laughed out loud. "Meyye dovahkiin, I am far stronger than you can ever dream to be. Nivahriin yirtte(2) will not work against—"
BOOM. Something exploded in the dragon's face, and he let out a mighty roar, before sagging to the ground, heaving.
"Meyz mul, Dovahkiin. You have become strong," he ground out, "But I am Al-du-in, Firstborn of Akatosh! Mulaagi zok lot! I cannot be slain here, by you or anyone else! You cannot prevail against me. I will outlast you... mortal!"
With those words, the black demon-dragon simply faded out of view.
Mazhe looked like he was ready to commit murder.
"What the... after all that, and he... he just vanishes?! What fucking purpose was that?!"
"Mazhe..."
"What?! Don't tell me to calm down!"
"And being all out of sorts will serve no useful purpose," said Harry, "Just... let's think this out."
A flap of wings came from behind them, and the ground shuddered as Paarthurnax landed.
"Lot krongrah. You truly have the Voice of a dovah. Alduin's allies will think twice after this victory."
"But it wasn't really a victory, though, was it?" said Mazhe, "He just up and vanishes!"
"Ni liivrah hin moro. True, this is not the final krongrah - victory. But not even the heroes of old were able to defeat Alduin in open battle. Alduin always was pahlok - arrogant in his power. Uznahgar paar. He took domination as his birthright. This should shake the loyalty of the dov who serve him."
"The more important matter, is to know where the world-eater has gone, so we may have an ending to things," said Miraak.
Paarthurnax seemed to think a moment before answering.
"Yes... one of his allies could tell us. Motmahus... But it will not be so easy to... convince one of them to betray him. Perhaps the hofkahsejun - the palace in Whiterun... 'Dragonsreach'. It was originally built to house a captive dovah. A fine place to trap one of Alduin's allies, hmm?"
Harry let out a snort. "Jarl Balgruuf will most definitely disagree with that course of action, Paarthurnax."
"Hmm, yes. But Mazhe's su'um is strong. I do not doubt that you can convince him of the need."
Mazhe glared a moment, then sighed. "I guess then, we—"
"There is another option," said Justin, "We can now ground a dragon with Dragonrend. But we can also bend one to our will—the Bend Will Shout."
"The better question, then. How do we summon one of Alduin's allies to us?"
"I will ponder this matter for the night," Paarthurnax answered, "Visit me come the morning, and I shall have the answer you seek."
"If it is permissible, we would rest here," said Harry, producing his chest, "We will be out of sight."
"Hi wod valokein—you are quite welcome," Paarthurnax answered.
Harry gave a bow of respect, before propping the chest against the nearby word wall. A press of a finger had it restored to proper size, and the group all climbed in.
Immediately, Harry retrieved his pensieve, so they could review the memory of the event. Both Pietros and Varro were invited to view it, since they were considered a part of the group at this point, and did need to know what was going on. Both of them were more than a little shaken after seeing the battle.
"Jupiter's cock," Varro muttered, as they re-emerged from the pensieve.
"The very thought terrifies me, I still wish it to be but a dream," said Pietros. Both of them looked like they were about to be ill.
"The memory of it was bad enough. Believe me, to actually be there it was far worse," said Mazhe, "I believe I might wish to forget. Vekel's specials are in order."
"And be in no shape for anything tomorrow—"
Harry glared. "Justin, fuck off."
He summoned a bottle and a bunch of glasses from the small kitchen.
"Considering the hell we've experienced over the past couple of days, I believe we might be entitled to forget, at least for a time. However, I think we might keep to a vice that may be cured come the morning."
A number of hours passed with an increasing haze of intoxication. Though they had not indulged in Vekel's powerful concoctions, firewhiskey still packed a powerful punch.
"How much did you get... when Paarthurnax and Alduin were speaking dragon?" Mazhe asked. He and Harry were crushed against each other on the couch, both their feet up on the small table.
"Uh... probably about half the words."
"You should take lessons. I mean, Paarthurnax would be an expert—"
"Native speaker and all, yeah, that's true. But I don't wish to intrude—"
"Harry, I doubt you would. I could tell, he's lonely. Think about it. He's lived for thousands of years on top of this mountain, with very little outside contact."
"I guess. But... I wouldn't do so until Alduin is dealt with for good."
"And that will come. I feel it now, we are close to the final confrontation."
"And know that, no matter what, I will fight by your side, Mazhe."
"I wouldn't have it any other way, Harry. You do know—"
They were interrupted, as a body seemed to appear out of nowhere to land across both their laps. It startled everyone out of their haze, and weapons were instantly produced.
"Gods... It's... It's Crixus!" Harry realized, getting a look at the face. "But... he has lost years from his life. How..."
"He's near death, Harry. Get him on the floor so we can heal his wounds."
"The portal was closed. This should not be possible," said Justin, producing his wand.
"We will heal his injuries first," said Harry, firmly, summoning the entire potions kit from the bathroom. "Sobriety draughts and healing potions."
"Good thought."
Once Harry had consumed a potion himself, he handed out the others, then turned his attention back to Crixus. It looked like he'd been through hell of some sort—a full-on battle, judging by some of the injuries. More healing potions, then.
"Gods... they got him good. Looks like a spear or something similar got him there," said Tommy, pointing to a puncture wound on his lower right abdomen.
"That should be fatal, he yet lives," said Varro, shaking his head.
"He'll survive. These healing potions are made with potent ingredients," Harry answered, "My teacher was nearly a master. Help me turn him on his side."
With the others helping, the injured man was turned on his side. With both Justin and Harry working, they were able to for the most part close up the most serious wounds.
"All right. Let's get him laid on his back. I will need his head propped up so I might feed him the healing potions."
"We can lay him on one of the couches now," Justin decided. A gesture from his wand lifted Crixus off the floor, and gently placed him on a vacant couch.
"I am still confused. Your portal is closed. How is it he still comes to us?"
"A question I would like an answer to as well, Varro. Answers that we will have to wait for, given he's in no state to speak of them. But I think we are all in agreement that another brother is returned to us safely, to be freed from whatever nightmare existence he was facing.
"During the time spent in Capua, it became one of my greatest wishes, to see all of you freed of the life you found yourselves in... to be granted the liberty to forge your own path in the world. To live for more than death to the amusement of others. At least for a few of you, that has come to be so."
"It was so... for more than a few of us..." Crixus whispered, slowly opening his eyes. "We... owe you more than... you can ever know, Harry."
"Crixus... just rest." Harry knelt beside the couch. "Do you feel any pain or discomfort?"
"Nothing I cannot handle. Your hands again work wonders."
"I'd like to have a look at your memories. Rather than you tell us about it, it would be better if we could just see things in the pensieve."
"As you did with Spartacus."
"Yes and no. Because he suffered a brain injury, the healer had to have a look at his mind. In your case, I will draw out the memory... if you will permit."
"Just follow Harry's instructions. It feels a little funny, but it doesn't hurt," said Tommy.
The next hours were spent in the pensieve, as Crixus had lots to show them, comprising of what seemed like hundreds of flashes, memories that covered perhaps two years since Harry and the Commonwealth's departure from Capua. It finally culminated in a terrible battle, wherein Crixus received the injuries they now found him with—the last image being the face of Naevia, his lover.
"I am truly sorry we weren't able to help you. Though I am glad to see you and Naevia were able to experience love and companionship absent the whims and restrictions of slavery."
"You knew?"
Harry grinned madly. "I have ways of knowing things I shouldn't, Crixus. There were a lot of things I was aware of within the walls of the ludus and the villa... but you also know that it was not my place to interfere."
"Oh... Harry, he might need another potion." Mazhe pointed to a wound that had reopened on his left side.
"Gods... I do not feel it at all," said Crixus.
"Pain-numbing potion. You shouldn't feel anything, at this point," said Harry, "But you'll need another one of these. It'll help you heal. And if I'd had more of these when first I met you, you wouldn't have been laid out as long as you were."
"Gratitude," Crixus said, accepting the potion. He consumed its contents, and passed back the empty vial.
"Now, my friend—"
Harry had no chance to finish, as there came a thump, as a body materialized by the entrance, and collapsed in a heap.
"Mul—" Miraak began to charge up a shout, but Harry held up a hand, recognizing a familiar face.
"Bloody hell..."
"Spartacus," Pietros said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Gods... quickly!" Mazhe exclaimed, seeing a terrible pool of blood forming around the fallen man's torso. If Crixus was bad, Spartacus looked like death warmed over. His torso had been punctured in three places, those being the most severe of his injuries.
"Harry, we may not be able to save him," said Justin, gravely.
"Then we must work quickly! The potions, all of them. I'll need your wand—Petrificus Totalus!"
"These are mortal injuries," said Pietros, "Even your spells—"
"We can only try."
"Harry, you do know of a few healing spells. Between the four of us, I'm sure we can do this," said Mazhe, "The strongest healing spells we can. The magic will know what to do."
"Justin, lend wand to purpose."
"All at once?"
"It can only help," said Mazhe, "It's like adding a boost to whatever spells we're already casting."
"Remember back in our borrowed rooms at Hogwarts... when the bitch tried to evict us? It's the same thing. Wait... You guys cast the healing spells, I'll provide the boost."
To those who were non-magical, it was fascinating, seeing the four mages at work. While Mazhe, Miraak, and Justin cast the strongest healing charms they knew on Spartacus, Harry cupped his hands together, simply pushing raw energy out, forcing it to combine with the spells being cast.
"Right. Healing potion. Help me prop his head up," said Mazhe. Harry quickly did so, then gently pried the man's mouth open so Mazhe could administer the potion. Messaging the throat helped the potion flow into his belly.
"He still looks of death," said Miraak, gravely.
"Yet still lives," said Harry, "He needs only time and rest. The potions and the magic will do the rest." He glanced at Pietros and Varro, who occupied the couch opposite Crixus. "We'll need to put him there."
"This many people..." Justin seemed to think aloud, "We'll have to make some changes to the chest. Never planned on having this number."
"And we're still not living in here," said Harry, firmly, "We'll have to make a few extra rooms adjoining Remus' flat. Once all this horse shit with Alduin has been dealt with, we can think of building places near Remus' cottage."
"We'll have to talk to the Jarl, but it's unlikely she'll have a problem."
"This is true," Harry agreed, gesturing with a hand, and levitating Spartacus onto the now vacated couch. Justin, meanwhile, gestured with his wand, vanishing the pool of blood from the floor. Within moments, it was as if nothing had happened.
"What becomes of us, now that we find ourselves in your company?" asked Crixus.
"Your lives are yours to do with it as you will," answered Harry, giving a rare smile. "Though for now you all might wish to stay close to us, the decision is ultimately yours. Likewise, Pietros. I bought you from Batiatus, not for you to remain a slave, but for you to shed the binds of servitude. I can only hope you will make a life for yourself, find yourself a mate..."
"It was my desire... to do those things with Barca."
"Ah. One further regret, of a set of events I was unable to prevent. That you would be forever separated."
"B...Barca... never left the ludus... alive," Spartacus whispered, opening his eyes, "Batiatus... murdered him."
A storm of emotions crossed Pietros' face, before he stormed off.
"Perhaps not the most gentle way of breaking such news," said Miraak.
"I'll look after him," Justin offered, before he quickly followed the distraught young man.
"My words... come from clouded thoughts," Spartacus managed.
"Do you feel any discomfort or pain?" asked Harry.
"None that are a concern."
"Then I would like you to sleep. Here. A sleeping draught." Harry produced the potion.
"G-gratitude."
Harry helped him to drink it, and Spartacus grimaced at the taste.
"I know, it's terrible. Such are most potions. But it will help you to rest."
Spartacus only smiled. "I find myself once again amongst friendly faces... though I had left others I called the same."
"Just rest, Spartacus—"
"That is not my name."
"Just—"
The man mustered a glare, being tired of being cut off. "It is Dardanos(3)."
"Dardanos, then. My orders. Both you and Crixus get some rest. We will break words later, and you can tell me all about the roads you have travelled since I departed your world."
"I look forward to it," Dardanos/Spartacus whispered, closing his eyes.
Harry huffed, then let out a sigh. "I think I will be following my own advice. Let us get some rest."
Rest, however, did not come for Harry. How did the pair of men end up back in Harry's world—or at least, where Harry was? With the portal permanently closed, it should have been impossible. Never mind the unsettling events that continued to unfold in Skyrim—facing Alduin only hours earlier; the world-eater himself! It was truly a miracle none of them had been seriously injured in the encounter.
After what seemed like several hours of staring at the ceiling, he finally gave up. Careful not to wake Mazhe, Harry stood up, and donned warm clothes, before leaving his room. He quietly crossed the common room, and climbed the ladder to the outside.
He found Paarthurnax perched on the broken word wall.
"You are troubled," the old dragon spoke.
"Many unfortunate things have befell us in the past few hours. I have lost trusted friends, grah midrak lot vokul(4), regained trusted friends but find them horribly maimed, one foot standing in the grave. I find my home being threatened with its end... a place I have grown to love since arriving here ten years ago."
"Hi yah drem do hadrim. You seek peace of mind."
Harry let out a sigh. "Yeah... It is my desire. Drem... something I find difficulty finding in recent days. I know all too well the burden on Mazhe's shoulders, for I share a similar fate in the world that birthed me."
Harry gestured with a hand, transfiguring some of the snow into a comfortable cushion, and sat down, making himself comfortable.
"In my own world, I face a monster that follows a similar path to Alduin. If given the chance, he would bend the world to his own will, stand above all others, and destroy any who are unworthy. What he does not see or understand, is that following such a path would only spell the end of our world."
"How did you come to be in this world, then?"
"The people who rescued me from a... difficult life... when I was six... they had connected a portal to Skyrim. I lived at the College of Winterhold until I was eleven, after which I returned to my own world so I could begin my magical education there—a decision I now deeply regret, given the complications that have come of it. In hindsight, remaining at the College would have been a better path."
"Vir lost grik miiraak wahlaan(5)—How was such a portal created?"
"Inadvertently, by my hand," Harry answered, "Many years into the past, suleykaar lahaal tholaar(6) was summoned from this world, into mine. Without it, the people who rescued me fund ni agos(7)."
"You have manipulated the wuldsetiid—currents of time."
"Zuk fein gein tiid(8), perhaps," Harry answered, "My birth records may show that I have lived for sixteen years, yet, by such manipulations, I live closer to eighteen."
"Indeed. Though... pah truk koros fah dahrin—all things happen for a reason."
"Paaz," Harry agreed, "Though I don't have to like it. And I grow tired of unslaad krosis. I was not brought into the world to be miserable—I deserve respite... a chance to be happy again."
"Tiid bo amativ, Harry. Hin krosis fen ni laat mahfaeraak—your sorrow will not last forever."
"I... I can only hope that is true. I just..." The young mage at last collapsed with grief, the weight of things at last becoming too much for his shoulders to bear.
UP NEXT: Conversations are had with both Paarthurnax and Sahrotaar; Harry makes peace with the Commonwealth, realizing his anger was unjustified; an assignment from the guild puts Mazhe up against an unexpected threat; and Mazhe and the circle attempt to interrogate one of Alduin's allies, with deadly results...
CHAPTER NOTES: Lots of dialogue verbatim from the game, here. Some of it adjusted to account for the presence of Miraak, and so on. Apologies for the number of footnotes, but most are dragon language translations—either Harry's words, or Alduin's. Paarthurnax tends to repeat dragon speech in the common language, so writing him is a little easier. Harry, meanwhile, in speaking with Paarthurnax, wouldn't clarify his words.
(1) Tahrodiis meyye! Meyus rot fen ni sav hi! - "Treacherous fools! Your foolish words will not save you!"
(2) Nivahriin yirtte – "cowardly tricks"
(3) Dardanos – Of course, no one truly knows Spartacus' true name. It's not even definitively known exactly where he came from. I chose the name from wikipedia's list of Dacian names. I figured that, now free of his world, he would want to set the record straight. Perhaps, he might've done so much sooner with Harry, but I can also argue that, in his world, he was still bound by servitude, and 'setting the record straight' wasn't exactly a priority.
(4) grah midrak lot vokul – "battled against great evil"
(5) Miiraak—don't confuse this with 'Miraak'. The two words mean different things. Miraak means 'allegiance guide', while miiraak means 'portal'.
(6) suleykaar lahaal tholaar – "powerful magical artefact"
(7) fund ni agos –"would not exist"
(8) zuk fein gein tiid - "More than one time"
Thanks to thu' for loads of information on the dragon language. It's been indispensable for translating stuff that isn't in canon. I should note that, the dragon language will crop up more often from here on out, considering Harry now knows two dragons. Both of them would be more than willing to teach ;-)