Chapter Thirty-Seven:

Where it All Began

"Lok Vah Koor!"

The snow and ice pellets that were flying through the shrill winds of the mountain dissipated and allowed me to move forward, away from High Hrothgar to climb to the peak of the Throat of the World; the highest point in Skyrim, and possibly even Tamriel.

The climb began early on. If I wasn't slipping and sliding on the ice-clad rocks, I was freezing from the mists that would reappear if I didn't move fast enough.

"Lok Vah Koor!"

When it was safe, I continued upward. I made sure to follow the markers that were similar to the ones I'd seen on the roads of Skyrim (small, flat stones stacked on top of each other, as well as holding a waving banner down), and in no time I was crossed a small, snow-enveloped and very rickety bridge. I was holding the old ropes in a death-grip, forcing myself to look straight ahead rather than see how far I'd bounce down. Once I was off the bridge, I stuck close to the rocks of the mountain rather than try my luck and peer over the side.

"Lok Vah Koor!"

The mist cleared in time for me to duck out of the way of a floating, serpentine ice wraith. I remembered reading about them once, but the book had offered no way to kill them. I drew my sword and ducked out of the way of it again, summoning flames into my free palm and unleashing it upon the creature. As soon as it got close again, I swung my sword hard at it. It fell apart under the weight of the blade and only stopped writhing on the ground after I'd stomped on it. The cold began to settle in again.

"Lok Vah Koor!"

I met another ice wraith further up and disposed of it like I had the first. I checked my pack for some potions that would do me some good with the chill in my bones. So much for being half Nord... I thought glumly. I fastened my back on my back and set off, only to trip onto my face. I angrily stood up and brushed the snow off my front, and then examined the area to see what I'd tripped on. It looked like a... bone. A rib.

Curiosity grabbing hold of me, I began to dig into the snow with my hands while ignoring the burning sting of the cold with every touch. I cleared enough away to realize that the rib was connected to a spine, and both were too large for a Human or a Mer. I saw something glint in the snow a little further up, and cleared the flakes away from there as well. My eyes were wide with awe. A Dragon's skeleton had laid buried in the snow for... how long? I wasn't an expert, but since the Dragons were only just returning and they only became skeletons after I killed them, I assumed it had to be as late as the Dragon War, but possibly even earlier.

"Lok Vah Koor!"

I moved on from the site and continued the climb, lamenting a bit that the Dragon had been lying there for Gods-knew-how-long. I foolishly wondered if Dragons had burial rights of any sort, but shook my head and put the skeleton in the furthest reaches of my mind. While I continued to follow the path, I encountered another ice wraith who seemed keen on driving me over the edge of the Throat of the World. Fortunately, because it kept slamming its ice head against my chest, it gained momentum and I managed to duck out of the way in time for it to begin its descent to the ground. Yes, ice wraiths could fly, in a sense—they levitated. If the fell, they'd need ground under them to continue to fly. Close under them. And that one only had the jutting rocks of the Throat of the World at the bottom of the mountain to aid it.

The winding path became less and less shrouded with mist, but the wind didn't die down in the least. I followed the markers, using the Shout if it felt necessary, but still remaining conservative because I wasn't sure if I'd lose my regular voice by Shouting all the time. I reached a narrow crevice that would barely allow me through without having to sidle through it, but I had to Shout one last time because of the mist on the other side.

"Lok Vah Koor!"

And with that, the way was clear.

I fumbled through the snow to finally come upon a wide area at the summit of the Throat of the World. A Word Wall laid at the far side, but I couldn't spot the leader of the Greybeards. Cautiously, I took a few steps into the open space, and trembled when I heard the mighty wing beats of a Dragon. My eyes shot to the sky, sword out and ready to fight, as a large Dragon appeared behind the peak of the mountain. It didn't waste time roaring; it landed near me, shaking me from my feet. I landed on my backside in the snow, shivering with cold and in fear, and stared at the Dragon.

It slowly crawled forward to me, until I was only an arm's length away from it. I couldn't find the strength to lift my sword. Memories of almost being eaten by the last Dragon I encountered still ran afresh in my mind until I locked onto its grey and tired eyes.

"Drem Yol Lok. Peace Fire Sky. Greetings, wunduniik. Traveler. I am Paarthurnax."

Okay, so I might have seen this one coming... Paarthurnax's grey eyes glanced down at the sword clasped in my hand. I used very slow movements to put it back in its sheathe. I noted that his scales, a dull ivory, shone brightly in the morning light. Some of his spikes and horns had broken off, hinting that he was a warrior of sorts, and that he was both very old and very powerful.

"Who are you?" the old Dragon asked in his deep, earthly voice. "What brings you to my strunmah... my mountain?" He politely reiterated his language to compliment mine.

"I..." I hesitated, still curious if he was going to eat me. "I may have guessed before, but it was completely far-fetched. I really, really didn't expect you to be a Dragon!"

If Dragons could smile, Paarthurnax did. He stood on his hind legs and spread his winged arms wide, admiring them. They were old and withered—torn from long use or long battles, I wasn't sure. But he was proud of them. "I am as my father Akatosh made me," he commented, and then fell forward again, his snout nearly touching my face. "As are you... Dovahkiin. Tell me: why do you come here, volaan? Intruder? Why do you intrude on my meditation?"

I very slowly stood. Paarthurnax's head followed me so we were still eye-level. "I need to learn the Dragonrend Shout created by man ages ago. I was hoping you could help. Can you?"

Paarthurnax gruffly snorted air into my face from his nostrils. I was grossed-out, but thankful for the warmth away from the cold. "Drem. Patience," he reiterated. "There are formalities that must be observed at the first meeting of two of the dov."

Paarthurnax motioned with his massive head for me to move. I did as asked and stood a bit further away from him, at his right side as he turned towards the Word Wall. The old Dragon looked back at me with what I had to admit was a coy grin.

"By long tradition, the elder speaks first." He drew his head up. "Hear my Thu'um! Feel it in your bones! Match it, if you are Dovahkiin!"

Paarthurnax spouted fire from his maw, bathing the Word Wall in his fire. The intensity of the heat melted the snow around the wall and the ice that enveloped it. I covered my face to shield myself from the sheer heat of the Thu'um.

The Dragon ended his Shout and looked at me, gesturing to the Word Wall. "I have spoken. The Rotmulaag awaits. Word of Power."

I approached the wall and was immediately drawn to the Word of Power created by Paarthurnax for me to see. I ran a hand on it. How could a Word be carved into solid stone by fire alone?

"A gift, Dovahkiin," Paarthurnax said, taking my attention away from the Word of Power. "Yol. Understand fire as the dov do."

I was knocked off my feet again as Paarthurnax's knowledge of Yol—"Fire"—found me in its orange-tinged-with-blue cloud. I felt lucky that I wasn't thrown off the Throat of the World though. It was just... Paarthurnax was a Dragon. A Dragon! His knowledge of a Word of Power would far exceed even the Greybeards' years of study and meditation! On the bright side, I was toasty warm.

"Now, show me what you can do!" Paarthurnax exclaimed, spreading his wings once more. "Greet me not as mortal, but as dovah!"

Like before, when I'd first demonstrated my Voice with the Greybeards, I was timid. But something about Paarthurnax made me trust him—made me want to greet him as he desired. I took in a breath, concentrating whatever I could into my next Shout.

"Yol!" Fire erupted from me and barreled towards Paarthurnax, but when it hit he remained standing, his eyes closing as if to judge the Thu'um. I approached him just as he fell forward once more and opened his eyes.

"Aah..." he breathed. "Yes! Sussedov los mul. The Dragonblood runs strong in you. It is long since I had the pleasure of speech with one of my own kind." His voice dropped into a monotone. "So, you have made your way here, to me. Not an easy task for a joor..." Paarthurnax paused. "... mortal. Even for one of the Dovah Sos. Dragonblood." He lifted his head so he was looking down at me. "What would you ask of me?"

"I need the Dragonrend Shout. Can you teach it to me?" I asked. (I wondered if he'd even heard me the first time around, to be honest.)

"Ah." Paarthurnax nodded. "I have expected you. Prodah. Foretold. You would not come all this way for tinvaak with an old dovah. Talk. No. You seek your weapon against Alduin."

I hesitated, somehow feeling sorry for the old Dragon. At least he was to the point. "You said I was... foretold. Is that how you knew I'd come for Dragonrend?"

"Alduin komeyt tiid. Alduin was let loose from time. What else would you seek? Alduin and Dovahkiin return together." He hung his head. "But I do not know the Thu'um you seek. Krosis. Apologies. 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."

I was glad I was already seated. I leaned my head back and let myself fall completely into the snow. "Then how am I supposed to learn it to stop Alduin and whatnot? The Greybeards don't know it, you don't know it..." Frankly, the giant flyswatter was looking like a pretty plausible alternative.

Paarthurnax chuckled low and moved closer, raising his head up and looking down at me. "Drem. Patience. All in good time. First, a question for you. Why do you want to learn this Thu'um?"

I gestured around. "Look at this place," I said as I stood up. "Up here, there's the greatest view in all of Tamriel. People live in the villages you can and can't spot while living their daily lives. Yes, there are conflicts and wars, but they end. There are kids that haven't seen Tamriel who really badly want to. Men and women could get married in the next few weeks, but that's only if I learn that Shout." I turned to face Paarthurnax, who was smiling again. "I like this life. It's put me through some things I thought I'd never live through, and its kicked me in the ass a few more times than I can count, but I like it. I'm alive and kicking. I don't want it to end."

Paarthurnax's smile widened. "Pruzah. Good. 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? End of days? Lein vokiin? World unborn? Would you stop the next world from being born?"

"With all due respect to the next world, it can take care of itself."

Paarthurnax smirked again. "Paaz. Fair. A fair answer. Ro fus... Balance force... 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. The whirlwind of time is treacherous. 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. Apologies. Now I will answer your question." He stretched his wings again, although he didn't stand, and looked around the summit. "Do you know why I live here at the peak of the Monahven—Mother of the Wind—what you name Throat of the World?"

"... Easy access to the Greybeards?" I suggested. Paarthurnax allowed a laugh for the answer. "I never really thought about it, honestly."

"This is the most sacred mountain in Skyrim. Zok revak strunmah. Most sacred mountain. The great mountain of the world. Here the ancient Tongues, the first mortal masters of the Voice, brought Alduin to battle and defeated him."

"Here?!" I looked around. "Using Dragonrend?!"

"Yes and no. Viik nuz ni kron. Defeated but not victorious. 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. His strength is eternal. It was the Kel—the Elder Scroll. They used it to... cast him adrift on the currents of Time."

I stopped. The old Nords had used an Elder Scroll... Along with Dragonrend... But screwed up somehow?

"A-Are you saying that the ancient Nords sent Alduin forward through time?!" I exclaimed.

Paarthurnax sighed again. "Not intentionally. Some hoped he would be gone forever—forever lost. Meyye. Foolish. I knew better. Tiid bo amativ. Time flows ever onward. One day, he would surface." He drew himself up. "Which is why I have lived here. For thousands of mortal years I have waited. I knew where he would emerge, but not when."

"And how does this help me learn Dragonrend?"

"Tiid krent," Paarthurnax said. "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."

"Like, go back in time?! Seriously?!" The old Dragon nodded. "Do you know where I can find an Elder Scroll?! Frankly, I'm not big on heading into Cyrodiil to grab one...'

Paarthurnax shook his head wearily. "Krosis. Apologies. No. I know little of what has passed below in the long years I have lived here. You are likely better informed than I."

"Then either the Greybeards or the Blades will know," I decided aloud with a grin.

"Trust your instincts, Dovahkiin," Paarthurnax intoned. "Your blood will show you the way."

"I have a few questions before I go..."

"Oh?" Paarthurnax seemed to look forward to my questions. I was glad for that.

"What does Dragonrend actually do?" I asked.

Paarthurnax took his time in answering. "I cannot tell you in detail. I never heard it used. Kogaan. Thankfully. It was the first Thu'um created solely by mortals. It is said to force a Dragon to experience the concept of Mortality. A truly vonmindoraan... incomprehensible idea to the immortal dov."

I sat down in the snow, ignoring the stinging cold as best I could. "How could an Elder Scroll send Alduin through time? I mean, I've heard of Elder Scrolls. Everyone has. I just... I never thought they could do something like that."

"Vomindok. I do not know," Paarthurnax replied. "Perhaps in the very doing they erased the knowing of it from Time itself. The dov are children of Akatosh. Thus we are specially... attuned to the flow of Time. Perhaps also uniquely vulnerable." The Dragon sighed heavily. "I warned them against such a rash action. Even I could not foresee its consequences. Nust ni hon—they would not listen."

"... You were there? Back then?"

"Yes. There were a few of us that rebelled against Alduin's thur... his tyranny. We aided the Humans in his overthrow." The Dragon looked over me, at the view that the mountain offered. "But they did not trust us. Ni ov. No trust. Their inner councils were kept hidden from us. I was far from here on the day of Alduin's downfall. But all dov felt the... sundering of Time itself."

"Okay, last question..." I ran a hand through my hair. "If you're Master of the Greybeards, can you teach the Way of the Voice? Do people come to train?"

Paarthurnax shook some snow from his scales. "I have taught the Way of the Voice for centuries, and the Thu'um since long before that. But no, Dovahkiin. Others do not come here to train anymore. Saraan. Waiting. You are the first in over a hundred years. I meditate on the Rotmulaag—the Words of Power. I counsel in their use. It is enough for me."

"I lied. I have another question."

The Dragon smirked. "Speak."

"How do you meditate on the Words?"

"Knowing a Word of Power is to take its meaning into yourself. Contemplate the meaning of a Rotmulaag. You will become closer to that Word as it fills your inner self."

"You mean the Dragon soul?" I asked. "The one that the Dragonborn has that makes them... uh, Dragonborn?"

Paarthurnax nodded. "Will I teach you, Dovahkiin? What Word calls you to deeper understanding? There are three to master: Fus, Feim, and Yol."

Well, I use Unrelenting Force the most... "Fus."

"It is called 'Force' in your tongue. But as you push the world, so does the world push back. Think of the way force may be applied effortlessly." He paused to allow me to think. "Imagine but a whisper pushing aside all in its path. That is 'Fus'. Let its meaning fill you. Su'um ahrk morah. Breath and focus. You will push the world harder than it pushes back..."