Chapter Eleven:

The Way of the Voice

The room we entered was large, made of the stone of the mountain, had torches lining its walls, but the largest amount of light came from the hole in the roof. two stairways were at the opposite end of the room, leading further into the Greybeards' dwelling.

Every step we took echoed inside, no doubt letting the Greybeards know of our presence. Indeed, descending the staircase on our left was one of these mysterious monks, his hood drawn over his head, grey robes with silver trim flowing behind him, and his hands clasped together. And his beard was grey, with a tie near its bottom, at least making it look orderly.

"So..." he said, his voice booming through the monastery, but not at all in a threatening way, "a Dragonborn appears, at this moment in the turning of the age."

I felt defensive, despite how non-threatening the Greybeard seemed, and steeled myself. I wanted answers. I just hoped that I wouldn't get the ones I didn't want.

"You call me Dragonborn," I stated. "What does that mean?"

I noticed three other Greybeards enter the room, each dressed in what the one standing before me was wearing, and each had a grey beard. They did live up to their name. These monks were silent as they surrounded us in a diamond formation, and I realized then that we had actually crossed to the centre of the room, where the last light from the sun was shining down on us through the hole in the roof.

"First, let us see if you truly are Dragonborn," the Greybeard said, deflecting my question. "Let us taste of your voice."

"How?"

The Greybeard held out his hand, but not for me to take. "Shout," he said simply.

Shout? Shout what? Shout where? I was starting to panic, unsure if I would simply make a fool of myself in front of these monks that we had traveled seven-thousand steps to see. I felt like the one who was truly the Dragonborn would come in through the doors behind us at any given moment, and I'd be free of this.

I was suddenly reminded of the word that had came to me when I killed that Dragon; the word Milos and I had found on the wall in Bleak Falls Barrow that had glowed. "Force".

I looked at a corner of the room, just-in-case I did manage to "Shout" so I wouldn't unintentionally hurt anyone. I realized the Greybeards were waiting patiently, and Milos and company had retreated to a wall behind the Greybeard facing the first one and I, probably for their own safety.

Force, I thought relentlessly. How are you going to Shout, Taryn? Just yell "force"! C'mon! "Force"! "Force"! "Fus"!

Before I could stop myself, knowing that I had somehow thought the wrong word (though I honestly had no idea why such gibberish had appeared in my head), I yelled it. I shouted it as loudly as I could, using space in my lungs that I hadn't even known existed.

"Fus!" It ripped from my throat and into the corner I had been looking at, a blue aura of power charging without any sign of stopping until it smashed into the corner, breaking many of the stones and evaporating into thin air. The Shout had even caught the Greybeard we'd spoken to slightly, and he staggered back, though he didn't appear wounded.

My hand shot to my mouth to cover the wide, abyssal hole it had made itself into, due to my jaw dropping when I saw the stones break. My eyes probably looked about ready to pop out of my head just as well.

"Dragonborn," the Greybeard acknowledged, wiping some dirt from the arm of his robe that had been caught in my Shout (no doubt from the dust that the Shout had brought up). "It is you. Welcome to High Hrothgar. I am Master Arngeir. I speak for the Greybeards. Now tell me, Dragonborn, why have you come here?"

I lowered my hand from my mouth, still in utter shock. "I-I..." I gulped, shaking a bit. "I want to find out what it means to be Dragonborn."

"We are here to guide you in that pursuit," Arngeir replied, smiling slightly, "just as the Greybeards have sought to guide those of the Dragon Blood that came before you."

"I'm not the only Dragonborn?"

Arngeir looked me dead in the eye, knowingly. "You are not the first. There have been many of the Dragon Blood since Akatosh first bestowed that gift upon mortalkind. Whether you are the only Dragonborn of this age... that is not ours to know. You are the only one that has been revealed thus far. That is all I can say."

I hesitated as I thought of my next question. I could feel the rest of the Greybeards' eyes on me, intent with something. Or perhaps I was simply reminded of how the Madame had always had eyes on me when I was younger.

"Then, who are you?" I asked. "What is this place?"

"We are the Greybeards," Arngeir answered simply, "followers of the Way of the Voice. You stand in High Hrothgar, on the slopes of Kynareth's sacred mountain. Here we commune with the voice of the sky, and strive to achieve balance between our inner and outer selves."

"I..." I gulped again, trying to shake off the nervousness. "I'm answering your summons, Master Arngeir."

Arngeir put a hand gently on my shoulder, as if he was trying to help me to calm myself. "We are honored to welcome a Dragonborn to High Hrothgar. We will do our best to teach you how to use your gift in fulfillment of you destiny."

Destiny? Oh crap... "What is my destiny?"

"That is for you to discover." I felt myself sigh in relief. "We can show you the Way, but not the destination."

I looked down at my feet while fidgeting with my hands. "I'm ready to learn," I mumbled, not entirely sure of my words.

"You have shown that you are Dragonborn. You have the inborn gift. But do you have the discipline and temperament to follow the path laid out for you? That remains to be seen." Arngeir removed his hand from my shoulder and stepped back to complete the diamond that the other Greybeards had begun. At least I wasn't shaking any longer. "Without training, you have already taken the first steps towards projecting your Voice into a Thu'um, a Shout. Now let us see if you are willing and able to learn."

The Greybeards changed positions. Now, two were on my right, diagonally from me, and Arngeir and the remaining Greybeard were at my left, diagonal again.

"When you Shout," Arngeir began, "you speak in the language of Dragons. Thus, your Dragon Blood gives you an inborn ability to learn Words of Power. All Shouts are made up of three Words of Power. As you master each Word, your Shout will become progressively stronger." Arngeir looked to the Greybeard beside him. "Master Einarth will now teach you 'Ro', the second Word in Unrelenting Force." Einarth started to approach me, but Arngeir continued. "Ro means 'Balance' in the Dragon tongue. Combine it with Fus—'Force'—to focus your Thu'um more sharply."

I stepped back a bit as Einarth approached, but then he stopped near where I had been standing. The Greybeard looked at the ground and held out his hand, palm forward.

"Ro," he whispered.

A smaller burst of energy (smaller than mine, anyway) hit the ground, and where it hit, scratches appeared. But they formed together to create a symbol in the language similar to the one Milos and I found in Bleak Falls Barrow. It glowed for a moment, as if it were on fire, and then Einarth stepped back, his head bowed.

I approached the word cautiously. Just like Arngeir had said, it was Ro—Balance. As soon as it registered in my head, the word disappeared, and the stone returned to normal.

"You learn a new word like a master..." Arngeir breathed, unable to hide the awe in his voice, "you truly do have the gift." Arngeir stepped back, but his monk brothers did not. They remained where they stood. "But learning a Word of Power is only the first step... you must unlock its meaning through constant practice in order to use it in a Shout. Well, that is how the rest of us learn Shouts. As Dragonborn, you can absorb a slain Dragon's life force and knowledge directly. As part of your initiation, Master Einarth will allow you to tap into his understanding of 'Ro'."

I felt Milos come up from behind me and stand in front of me defensively. "What the hell do you mean?" he snapped.

"Do not fear, Argonian," Arngeir assured Milos. "The tales have spoken of the time a Dragonborn absorbs the soul of a Dragon. It is always the hardest then. This is a simple exchange of knowledge. The Dragonborn will not be harmed."

Milos looked back at me. I had no idea what to say. I couldn't tell what he was thinking at all, which wasn't settling well with me.

"I'll be fine," I said. "If their intention was to hurt me, they would have gotten rid of you first."

Milos' eyes narrowed, but he complied. I hoped that I wasn't getting myself into something too deep. As long as I'd have the knowledge on how to Shout (so I never would have to again), I would be fine.

Einarth spread his arms as he glowed orange, just like Mirmulnir's soul. I squeezed my eyes shut as a precaution so I wouldn't have to brace myself for impact, but instead of the searing heat I'd felt with Mirmulnir, this felt warm. I knew when it had entered by body, and felt calm. Ro also seemed to be easier for me to understand. Somehow... it fit with Fus. Like tea and a cup.

"Now, let us see how quickly you can master your new Thu'um. Use your Unrelenting Force shout to strike the targets as they appear."

A Greybeard on my right stepped forward and took a breath. "Fiik... Lo... Sah!"

Beside me, a spiritual-looking duplicate of the Greybeard appeared. It waited patiently, unmoving. I gulped.

"Fus Ro!" I shouted.

The specter was knocked back, and disappeared immediately.

"Well done," Arngeir commented. "Again."

Einarth stepped forward. "Fiik... Lo... Sah!"

Again, another specter appeared. "Fus Ro!"

And disappeared just as quickly. I was getting used to the shouting.

"You learn quickly." Arngeir was smiling. "Once more."

The last Greybeard approached and took in a breath. "Fiik... Lo... Sah!"

"Fus Ro!" Again, my Shout destroyed the specter of the Greybeard. At least, I thought, Arngeir will be happy with that and I can be on my way.

"Impressive," Arngeir said. "Your Thu'um is precise. You show great promise, Dragonborn." I was ready to turn on my heel and get the hell out, but Arngeir's next words stopped me. "We will perform your next trial in the courtyard. Follow Master Borri."

I sighed and followed one of the Greybeards to my right. Arngeir approached my companions, but I didn't hear their exchange of words. Borri led me up the stairs and to large double-doors, to which he entered. I followed after him, and noticed that the other Greybeard and Einarth were following just as well.

The courtyard was large and spacious, covered in snow, with only very few downed stones. The monastery and everything around it, in fact, was in very good condition for how old it was. Borri led me further into the courtyard, where a single gate stood against the cold of the mountain. It wasn't even guarding anything, so I wondered about the point for such a gate. But Borri brought me to two pillars not far in front of the gate and bade me to stand beside one of the pillars.

Arngeir eventually followed us out, but I didn't see a trace of my companions. I wondered if Arngeir had sent them away. I hoped he hadn't.

"We will now see how you learn a completely new Shout," Arngeir explained. "Master Borri will teach you 'Wuld', which means 'Whirlwind'."

"Wuld," Borri murmured.

In the same way that Einarth had just done, a glowing word appeared on the stone ground beside me.

"You must hear the Word within yourself before you can project it into a Thu'um," Arngeir said as I examined it. "Approach Master Borri and he will gift you with his knowledge of 'Wuld'."

Just like with Einarth, the glow that I received from Borri was warm, and instead of linking a new word with one I already knew, it gave me an understanding as to how "Wuld" would work.

"Now we will see how quickly you can master a new Shout," Arngeir explained as he approached the gate. "Master Wulfgar will demonstrate Whirlwind Sprint. Then it will be your turn."

Wulfgar, the remaining Greybeard, stood in-between two pillars across from the gate. Borri approached the side of the gate and watched us.

"Master Borri?" Arngeir prompted.

The old monk nodded. "Bex!"

The gate swung open. Wulfgar wasted no time in swallowing a breath of the cold, fresh air of the mountain.

"Wuld... Nah... Kest!" Wulfgar was in-between the pillars one second, and at the other side of the gate the next. I feared that I had blinked and missed what had happened.

"Now it is your turn," Arngeir told me as I stepped in-between the pillars. "Stand next to me. Master Borri will open the gate. Use your Whirlwind Sprint to pass through before it closes."

I waited only a moment before Borri shouted, "Bex!"

"Wuld!" I felt my body leave the ground for a second as I was catapulted forward, but my balance wasn't hard to regain once the speed had worn off. I sighed in relief when I didn't smash into Wulfgar.

I approached Arngeir, as he was obviously the only Greybeard who had spoken to me since my arrival. "Your quick mastery of a new Thu'um is... astonishing. I'd heard the stories of the abilities of Dragonborn, but to see it for myself..."

I shrugged. "It just... happens."

He nodded. "You are now ready for your last trial. Retrieve the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller, our founder, from his tomb in the ancient fane of Ustengrav. Remain true to the Way of the Voice, and you will return."

A horn? I need to get a horn? Ugh! This is more trouble than its worth! I rubbed my temples, but Arngeir didn't seem to get I was annoyed at all. He just smiled.

"There are only four of you?" I finally asked. "Greybeards, I mean."

"Five." I blinked at Arngeir's answer. "Our leader, Paarthurnax, lives alone at the peak of the Throat of the World. When your Voice can open the path, you will know you are ready to speak to him."

I sighed. "Thank-you. I guess I'd better get that horn now..."

Arngeir nodded. "Good luck, Dragonborn. Remember what we have taught you."

"Where are my companions?"

Arngeir pointed at the doors. "You will find them inside. They requested rest while you were training, so before you venture off to retrieve the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller, you may rest as well."

I thanked him again and nearly sprinted into the monastery. I wasn't looking forward to any questions that they may have, but I would have to face them sooner-or-later. It was either that, or leave without them.

But I'd never abandon Milos. He'd find me again if I did and probably dangle me from the top of the Throat of the World. At least he kept things interesting.