Chapter 8: The Unexpected

There were four people standing in the small square-shaped room in the depths of Nchuand-Zel. A beautiful she-elf stood right next to a stone table, gazing calmly to her left at Aislinn the Dragonborn whose face bore and unreadable expression, on her right was Endon the silversmith. Between them stood Brynjolf, glaring steadily at the elf.

"I think we should start over again," Aislinn said resolutely. "We missed the introductions, so… you apparently all know me but my name is Aislinn. I am… many things, the Dragonborn among them. This is Brynjolf of the Thieves Guild and this is Endon, our right hand in Markarth… or at least he used to be. Now who are you?" she addressed the beautiful elf on her right.

"My name is Sinawen and I officially work as a courier and an informant for the Thalmor," she replied promptly. "Much to my regret, I'm not among the most trusted ones so there are pieces of information even I don't have. So if you are expecting me to tell you why the Thalmor are after you, I can be of no service. The only thing I know is that Tamriel is still in danger and I can't let anyone take you. Not until you fulfill your destiny."

Brynjolf stared at her in shock.

"What did you just say?"

"At least you're honest," Aislinn answered quickly. She didn't want Brynjolf to start a fight. Not yet, at least. "But I still don't understand. Are you the only Altmer who is actually scared of Alduin?"

"There is more of us but not enough to fight openly. Elenwen and some other 'initiates' seem to have found something regarding Alduin. Something that they found valuable. I say it's playing with fire and necromancy is a child's play compared to this. He is the Destroyer of Worlds, even his name says so."

"You said that I have to devour his soul," Aislinn continued her questioning. "How? I didn't manage to do that the first time I defeated him, how am I supposed to do it now? It's not like I command those souls to enter my body."

"Unfortunately, I don't know that either. But I know the claw in your possession is the key to the answer. At least partially."

"Partially?" Aislinn raised a brow.

"Yes. The tomb you're about to enter is no ordinary tomb. You won't find it anywhere in Tamriel."

"Uh…" Aislinn faltered, "if it's not in Tamriel, then where is it?"

"It was cast away a long time ago. This tomb transcends time. To locate it, you'll need…"

"… an Elder Scroll," Aislinn finished for her, sighing at the thought of having to obtain yet another of those mysterious timeless things always almost cost her life. Brynjolf's eyes widened.

"Yes, and Elder Scroll," Sinawen confirmed. "You're quite bright."

"I guess it's a matter of experience," Aislinn murmured. "Let's say I believe you and I'll do what you say. But where can I find such an Elder Scroll? And who will read it for me?"

"Normally I'd say either the College of Winterhold or somewhere in Cyrodiil. This scroll, however, seems to be bound to dragons, so asking a dragon would be my best guess. You managed to call one to you when you first chased Alduin, right? Could you do it again?"

"No," Aislinn shook her head. "I will not call Odahviing just like that. I'm not going to risk that the Thalmor hear me and kill him before we can even speak a word. The same reason I didn't ask for his help when we were fighting the guards in Markarth."

"You seem to have taken a liking to that dragon. I warn you. They are not your friends," Sinawen pointed firmly.

"Now you talk just like someone I know," Aislinn hissed in remembrance of Delphine and her uncompromising demands to kill her best teacher and the one dragon that had helped her get where she was, purposely avoiding naming anyone, especially in front of a Thalmor. "Don't you dare lecture me like this. I will do what I think is best."

"Whatever you say," the Altmer said indifferently. Aislinn, who was starting to feel irritated at her arrogance, edgily cracked her fingers. An Altmer is still an Altmer, it seems. "Just find a dragon and look for the scroll."

"There's just one small problem," Brynjolf suddenly broke out of his silence. "How do we even get out of here?"

"That shouldn't be a problem at all," Endon smiled. "We have to get our supplies somewhere, you know. It's not like we can catch a deer or pick up herbs here in the ruins."

"So…"

"So I think you're going to like this," he grinned.

The two travelers gave him a curious look.

He pulled a lever in a corner of the room and a smaller hidden door appeared opposite the entrance. They had to crouch to be able to pass through it. On the other side, there was a corridor which descended steeply into a vast hall. When Aislinn entered it, she gasped and stood quietly in awe for a moment.

A huge machine filled most of the hall, the majority of it made by a number of large parallel tubes lined up horizontally, which were open at the top. Inside some of the tubes were containers similar to some kind of boats made in dwarven metal. The tubes led to a series of tunnels on the other side of the hall. Each tube started with a counter holding a set of buttons. The whole place seemed alive. It was brighter than most of the dwarven ruins Aislinn had visited so far. There were embossments on the side walls depicting various people and lands with the exception of a small area with a door on the right side of the hall. Water was flowing from some of them, falling into small ponds in sparkling waterfalls. Aislinn could also notice some water at the bottom of most of the tubes. Wharfs with stairs leading up to them were constructed around each of the tubes making the boats inside them accessible.

"This looks like a huge underground port," Aislinn said with an amazed expression.

"That's because it is," Endon said, his lips curling in a bright smile. "I discovered this place by accident when I found a lever in my house. It leads to a chamber right next to this which was probably used for sending mail. I tried sending something several times but I couldn't figure out how the mechanism worked. This, however," he waved at the huge tubes, "is a different story. I spent ages here trying to figure out how this works. And I did."

"Where do these tubes lead, actually?" Brynjolf asked curiously.

"Well, everywhere, that's the thing. I'm still trying to figure out some of the destinations but apparently this is just a small part of a huge mechanism that runs underneath most of Skyrim. It connects one Dwemer city with another. But the entrances to the ports are usually well hidden. The Dwemer didn't really like to share their secrets."

"This is amazing," Aislinn said, holding her breath unconsciously. "If people knew about this, all Skyrim would change. Maybe even all Tamriel."

"Lass, what are you thinking about?" Brynjolf asked, giving her another of his worried looks, his brows furrowed.

"The possibilities," she whispered in a mysterious voice.

Endon chuckled. The thief didn't share his amusement.

"So how does this actually work?" Aislinn asked, stepping forward to take a look at the counters with buttons.

"You have to know the button combinations to be able to travel. I made a list of the ones I discovered. It was actually pretty fun. There is a combination for every underground port in Skyrim, so if you for example press this," he pointed at the button on the top right corner of one of the counters, "and this," the middle bottom button followed, "you can go to Mzinchaleft. I first had to send a boat with some more or less worthless stuff in it. The lights on the buttons turn off once the boat arrives at its destination and you can send it back from here as well. This way I discovered if the places were safe. Then I tried to travel there myself and find out where I ended up. Some of the places had the way out blocked so I had to take a ride back here. But some of them I could locate on the map of Skyrim. Then I made my own map of the underground ports I know of. I plan to keep on updating it."

"I'm starting to love the Dwemer," Aislinn grinned. "This could save us so much trouble. All the Thalmor we could avoid."

"I'm having my doubts about this…" Brynjolf said skeptically, "but I guess it's still better than fighting a horde of elves. Anyway, do you have any armor or weapons around here? I don't feel safe traveling a completely unknown area totally vulnerable."

"Not much," Endon furrowed his brows. "There's probably some dwarven armor and maybe a few weapons in that room up there," he waved in the direction of where they had come from, "and we do have some arrows," a hopeful smile crossed Aislinn's face when he mentioned the arrows, "but overall we don't have much to offer you. Come and look for yourselves."

They went up the corridor and entered the square room again. There was a deep drawer underneath the table at the center with a set of dwarven armor and a quiver of arrows inside. A great dwarven sword rested against a wall in one corner of the room along with a dwarven bow.

"That's really not much," Aislinn frowned.

"You take the armor, lass," Brynjolf suggested. "You're just as good with heavy armor as you're with the light one and you need protection more than I do."

"I disagree," Aislinn objected. "They don't care about you but they want me alive."

"I wouldn't be so sure that being captured alive by them would be any better than your death though," Sinawen's sweet voice rang from behind them. "I agree with master thief here that you should take the armor, Dragonborn."

"Fine," Aislinn sighed. "I'll take it. But don't you dare die on me, Brynjolf."

"That's my line," he said. "And I'll be fine. I was used to wearing a crappy old piece of thief leather armor anyway."

"I still can't figure out how you could survive in it," Aislinn shook her head.

"Oh I have my ways," Brynjolf smiled mysteriously.

"Nocturnal's luck, that's what you have," she murmured.

"If it's a thief armor you're looking for, I can give you mine," Endon proposed. "I won't be needing it anyway."

"If you don't mind," Brynjolf shrugged. Despite that, Aislinn could see a slight sign of relief in his face.

Endon disappeared for a moment and returned with a set of leather armor. It looked sturdier than the one Brynjolf had been wearing before and there were small scales of dark metal attached to most of its surface.

"This looks pretty good," Brynjolf commented appreciatively. "What is this?"

"I improved it a little," Endon smiled with a slight blush. "Ebony. There are only two weak spots. The armpits and the crotch."

"I think Brynjolf is more than capable of protecting his crotch," Aislinn chuckled. The thief shook his head.

They changed separately into their new armors, both of them now carrying a bow and a dagger. Aislinn took the great sword and handed Brynjolf the one-handed elven one she'd picked up during her fight with the Thalmor. She wasn't too happy about having to use a two-handed weapon but kept her doubts to herself as she didn't want to worry her companion. She preferred that Brynjolf have a more suitable weapon for him. After all, she did have some magic and the Shouts in her pocket.

Meanwhile, Endon spread a few pieces of paper on the table. There were several charts, a list of port button combinations and an unfinished map. They gathered and studied it.

"The place I want to go to," Aislinn started, "is High Hrothgar. Coincidentally, I think it might be the safest place for me at the moment."

Endon raised his eyebrows. "High Hrothgar? Will you be able to find a dragon there?"

"Maybe the Greybeards count as a dragon," Brynjolf said thoughtfully. "They are the masters of voice and know a lot about these things, you know."

"It's my best shot," Aislinn said without mentioning Paarthurnax's name. Best if he's kept a secret for as long as possible.

"All right then. Let's move on," Endon urged them. "High Hrothgar… best if you take this route then," he pointed at one of the shorter lines on his map. "This should lead you close to Raldbfar. The exit is on the southern side so that should work to your advantage. Moreover, you'll be close to Whiterun. Stay in the Whiterun hold as long as you can. I don't know if you heard about it but jarl Balgruuf refused to let the Thalmor in the city and had many of them chased out of his hold. I don't know how much longer he can hold up against them, though. There will be more coming. Gods protect us now."

"At least someone refuses to lick their feet," Brynjolf grimaced.

"I guess that should be all then," Endon said at last. "You take these with you," he handed them the map and the list of combinations. "I made a copy and besides, you'll need them more than I do. I'll show you one last thing. Let's go."

They headed back to the port. Aislinn and Brynjolf entered one of the boats, watched Endon push a set of buttons and then pull a lever on one side of the counter they hadn't noticed before, Aislinn watching him attentively to make sure he picks the right destination. The water in the tube bubbled and whirled and its level started to rise slowly. They could hear a noise from the tunnels as the tubes moved to make an uninterrupted path to Raldbthar.

"The underground water is kept out, probably as a protection against flooding, so if you want to travel, you have to fill the desired tube with it after selecting your destination," he explained. "Then you push this," he pointed at a button on the opposite side of the counter from the lever, "and the boat will start moving. There are vents along the way you can use if you need to escape but remember that the boat cannot be stopped once the current takes over it." He inhaled. "I guess this is goodbye. Good luck to you. Stay safe."

"Good luck to you too," said Aislinn as she felt her chest tighten a little.

"Eyes open, walk with the shadows," Brynjolf saluted.

Aislinn gave him a last grateful look before pushing the confirmation button. The water level rose again and the boat started gliding a small wave that appeared behind it and moved to the tunnel in front of them. Soon, they were blinking their eyes, trying to accustom themselves to the darkness in the tunnel.

Good luck and do save us, please, Endon wished quietly as he watched their figures fade in the shades. He turned around, walking slowly back to the square chamber.

"So, have they left?" Sinawen asked him curiously, her sweet voice echoing through the corridor.

"Yeah," Endon smiled at her. "We're alone again."

"Aren't you worried about your family?" the elf asked with an unreadable expression. "Just where did you say you sent them?"

"Bthardamz," he replied, his smile fading. "They should be all right as long as they do as I instructed them to. My wife is a smart woman and my daughter is even smarter. They'll be just fine." He didn't sound too convinced by his own words.

"Good," she said in an even sweeter voice than usual as she walked behind him. "Now I have you all to myself."

"Sorry," he replied, perplexed. "You're very beautiful and all but I'm not really interested."

She approached him and he could feel her breath on his neck.

"You don't have to apologize," she whispered. "It's all right. It just means that you're not needed anymore."

A dagger pierced his back and went through his stomach.

"No…" He tottered. "Oh no… what have I… Adara…" the name of his daughter escaped his lips as the elf cut his throat. His body collapsed on the ground. Sinawen stood above him in triumph for a moment before heading to the mailing room.

A tall elf was standing near a Dwemer mechanism with a round container and two tubes leading from it, one of them penetrating the wall behind it, at a small room in the Sleeping Giant Inn in Riverwood. It had taken him a lot of time and effort to arrange this but finally he'd persuaded the owner to hire him the room permanently for a small fortune. He'd been working on connecting this mechanism from here to the Dwemer postal system for ages before heading to Riften, and now he was back, waiting. At last, he heard a clicking sound. A lid on one of the tubes coming from the machine opened and an elongated round box fell to the ground. He picked it up, opened it and pulled out a rolled-up piece of paper. Unrolling it, he checked its contents. The message was very brief.

High Hrothgar. Wrong dragon. Top priority.

"Oh," he whispered to himself. "So our lady refused the suggestion and took a longer route. Too bad."

He quickly packed his things and left the inn. Dark clouds were gathering from the west, foretelling a storm. That didn't look good. He had to be quick if he didn't want to get noticed. He ran for a while before reaching a grey horse tied to a tree. He undid the knot that had tied him, jumped on his back in an elegant leap and without losing another minute, he heeled him to hurry. They cantered through the woods and up the hills. The elf knew the area well as he had crossed it many times while figuring out how to connect his mailing device to the distant Dwemer mechanism in Bthalft, so he had no problems cutting his way the shortest possible, turning expertly round the ancient pines and avoiding the steep slopes leading to dead ends. A snowstorm complicated his journey when he had passed Ivarstead. The road up to High Hrothgar was a living hell. The wind kept weeping in his ears and swaying his body, making it impossible for him to notice trolls and wild animals before they approached him. He was a skilled magic user, making a quick work of them, but it still took more time than he had hoped. Finally, he reached the monastery above, a sight of great stone structure with a grand tower in its front, the window in the middle leading to a leap which would perhaps host a dragon, opening before his eyes.

"What brings you here, traveler?" a voice asked as he entered the main hall.

There were several hooded figures kneeling by small carpets which lay about or standing around, all silent in their meditation.

Without a word, he grabbed both hands of the man who had spoken to him and twisted them behind his back. He squeezed his wrists in one hand and drew a dagger with the other, pressing it against his neck.

"I have your leader," he whispered in a dangerous voice. "And if you value him, you will show me to the top of this mountain."

"Don't!" yelled the hostage. The rest of the men opened their mouths but they found themselves thrown up in the air by an enormous force as the elf Shouted.

"Don't even try that, weaklings," the elf hissed. "Now lead me up the mountain."

They slowly got back on their feet but didn't seem to yield to his request.

"I'm running out of patience," he growled. "Hurry up if you don't want your beloved Dovakhiin to have to fight me."

His last sentence was enough to make them move out as he commanded.

Aislinn and Brynjolf hurried up the mountain. They managed to get here much faster than they had thought. Following Endon's instructions, they made a slight detour and traveled through the Whiterun hold as long as possible. Their road was one of the safest they had had in the past ten days. Even with a good night's rest, they soon found themselves standing at the feet of the long slope leading to High Hrothgar. A snowstorm was raging there when they arrived.

They were climbing up the mountain, their backs bent against the violent wind, their faces stinging as the ice-cold snowflakes landed on them. The road was barely visible, making them easy targets for any creatures that would decide to make them their prey. But no creatures came after them.

Finally, they saw the proud monastery in front of them. Aislinn exhaled as she opened the door to a dark hall lit only by a handful of candles. Brynjolf followed her, staring at the monumental structures around him in awe. Silence welcomed them, as if the existence itself gave way to some higher power. Nothing moved here save for the flickering flames of the candlelight.

"I never thought I would come to see such a thing," he whispered. He expected Aislinn to smile but noticed vibes of tension coming out of her whole body.

"What's wrong?" he asked, scared of the answer.

"There's no-one here," she whispered in horror. "There's just… there's no-one here!" she repeated, panicking.

"Calm down, maybe they went out or something…"

"They didn't. They never do. Even the corridors are empty."

"So what now?"

"Hurry," she urged without explanation.

He followed her through the monastery to the courtyard behind it. There was a passage further up the mountain on their right. Aislinn headed straight to it when they heard a roaring sound. A flash of violet light blinded them a moment after that. Aislinn froze for a moment before breaking into a run.

"Lok Vah Koor!" he heard her Shout on the run.

"Lass, what are you…" A strong blast of wind interrupted Brynjolf's question. He gave up and ran after her.

"Lok Vah Koor!" she Shouted countless times as they kept running. The wind and the snow before them gave way as she did.

Finally, they reached the snowy summit of the mountain. A dragon lay in their view motionless, countless of his golden-white scales scattered around his giant body, partly burned. Behind him, several lying bodies in dark grey hooded robes could be recognized, two of which seemed to be moving. Brynjolf wondered if he was supposed to admire the poor creature or be sorry for it. Even as it lay there, it seemed majestic and proud, a fallen god bidding farewell to the world he had once called his home. The thief he was, he couldn't help but guess how much would a handful of these beautiful scales be worth. The thought was gone, however, the moment he glanced at his companion.

"No!" Aislinn yelled, her face paler than the snow under her feet, sheer horror shaping her face into a dreadful grimace. "No, no, NO!" This could not be happening. This was Paarthurnax, her teacher and a loyal ally on her quests. The great master who had taught her to meditate and look at the world from many perspectives, and the one stable point in the world she had taken for granted. He had always been there, whenever she had been in need of him, never judging, never demanding. He had been the one she could rely on, her guide and her backup. Always. But not anymore.

She hurried to the dragon, shivering, tripping on her way.

"Lass!" Brynjolf called to her in dismay. She ignored him.

"Paarthurnax…" Aislinn whispered. "This can't be…"

The dragon slowly opened one eye, a cat-like pupil focusing on her from a golden iris. She gasped, suddenly raising a hand in attempt to use a healing spell.

"Drem yol lok, Dovakhiin," the dragon said calmly, his deep voice resonating in the air. "Dreh ni unt ko naaf. Do not waste your efforts. No healing spell can help a dying dragon."

"But…"

"I had already accepted my fate long time ago. Til los nid filok. You cannot change this, Dovakhiin. Now, you have come for a purpose, have you not?"

"I… I need an Elder Scroll," Aislinn said shakily, forcing her knees to stay in their place, however they were close to buckling. "One that can take me to some ancient Nord tomb which is not located in Tamriel."

"Ah, this one. Tiid lost bo. It has come to it at last. Unfortunately, I cannot help you with this. Krosis. That place was cast beyond the boundaries of our time by Alduin himself. Pahlok bo viing naal viing voth faas. In his fear, he rid the world of a powerful tool that could serve to end his reign. You will have to find a dragon that has been very loyal to him."

"But how can I find one?" she asked desperately.

"Frolok ahst fos hi koraav. Keep your eyes open and look around. You will find what you seek."

"What does that mean?"

Paarthurnax closed his eyes and a fearful premonition clouded Aislinn's mind. "They are all around. Dez motmahus. My time has come, Dovakhiin. It is time to bid you farewell. From now on, I will live as a part of you. Su'um ahrk morah." His voice slowly faded away.

"No…" she whispered in denial. "Please... no!"

Golden light emitted from the dragon's body. Its sparks rose up to the air like myriads of golden fireflies and whirled towards Aislinn. She staggered back as though she was trying to refuse them. Destiny, ever so merciless, apprehended her, however, and faster than the wind in her face, they encircled her and entered her body as she fell to her knees, burning tears sliding down her cheeks.