9th of Rain's Hand, 4E 201

Valkyrie let out a yawn, dragging her feet rather sluggishly after rising out of bed of her own accord for once. After spending so many months at High Hrothgar, the cold stone of the temple's floor beneath her bare feet didn't even register in her mind. She had no idea what time it was, or why Arngeir had allowed her to sleep rather that waking her for her lessons as the old man usually did. What was even more strange was that, upon her waking, Serana was nowhere to be seen, when the vampire usually snuggled up to her in bed as tightly as possible, only leaving when the both of them had no other choice.

As Valkyrie came to think of it, slowly traipsing down the dimly lit hallway from where her quarters were, the entire monastery seemed rather quiet. Quieter than usual, at least, as besides herself, Serana, and Arngeir, the other three inhabitants never spoke. It was almost suspiciously calm. It had been a full ten minutes since getting out of bed, and none of the Greybeards were positioned in the hallway, meditating at the windows, or outside Shouting at the sky. It was only when Valkyrie made it to the central chamber of the temple that she began to grow suspicious.

Coming from somewhere in the monastery, there was a distinct smell of baked goods. This was an oddity, as the Greybeards' diet was as strict as their philosophy, and the old men normally only ate minimal helpings of dried and preserved meats. It had been months since she had even thought about sweets, let alone seen one. Her curiosity growing, Valkyrie attempted to follow the smell, until finally she stumbled into the meeting hall, where Arngeir had served herself and Serana tea their first night at High Hrothgar.

Gathered around the great stone table were all four of the Greybeards, with Serana standing front and center, a devilish smirk on her face. Still only half awake, Valkyrie simply stared at them all for a moment, before she finally spoke up. "What's going on?"

The vampire responded by simply moving to the side, revealing a large cake on the table. Her mischevious smile turned into a wide, joyous grin. "Surprise!" She said, rushing forward to embrace the Nord, who was still clearly confused.

"Wait, what?" Valkyrie said, still gladly accepting Serana into her arms. "What is this?"

"Don't tell me you didn't remember your own naming day," Serana said, resting her arms on Valkyrie's shoulders.

"I... um..." The Nord didn't know what to say. She couldn't remember exactly when she had told Serana her day of birth, though she suspected it was when they had snuck into Castle Volkihar in search of Valerica. An entire year ago, such a small detail said in passing, yet the vampire had remembered, even when Valkyrie herself hadn't. She was touched. "Truth be told," she said. "I haven't really been keeping track of time up here."

"Fair enough," the vampire remarked. "But just because you didn't remember doesn't mean we can't have a proper celebration."

Valkyrie laughed. "You seem much more into this than I am."

"Listen love," Serana's voice was much lower now, slightly more serious as she moved her face closer. "You know my past, what kind of life I lead before I met you. Occasions like this didn't come around very often, if ever." She moved a hand to Valkyrie's face. "And now one has, and I'm all the more glad I get to share it with you."

It was all Valkyrie could do to keep a tear from escaping her eye. Instead, she opted to rush forward into a kiss, one that Serana was only too happy to give back. "I love you," the Nord said as they broke apart.

"I love you too," Serana cooed as they both turned back to the Greybeards, now hand in hand.

"Honestly," Valkyrie spoke to Arngeir. "I'm more surprised all of you agreed to this."

The old man rubbed the back of his neck, looking to his fellow monks. Einarth shook his head, whether in disapproval or gentle understanding was unknown. Borri simply wore a smirk, and old Wulfgar stood in the corner of the room, expressionless as he leaned against the wall. "Well," Arngeir said finally. "It is true that the Greybeards do not normally observe such... festivities." He let out a short chuckle. "But Serana can be quite persuasive when she wants."

"I have no doubt," Valkyrie shot a glance at Serana, mostly playful but with a twinge of suspicion. The vampire only grinned mercilessly back.

"But her argument for the celebration was sound," the old man continued. "Your mastery of the Thu'um has all but surpassed our decades of training in a fraction of the time. In addition, you've been a diligent student in learning the history and philosophy behind the Way of the Voice." He smiled. "I suppose you've earned a day off."

"Thank you..." Valkyrie bowed her head, before adding, "...Master."

"No need," Arngeir bowed back. "I understand the desire to celebrate and enjoy yourself. The Greybeards were young once as well, you know. As hard as that may be to believe."

"I don't want to think about what you got up to at my age," Valkyrie joked as she stepped towards the cake. Serana, with a snap of her fingers, produced twenty two minuscule fires, hovering just so slightly above. With everyone in the room eager with anticipation, she finally inhaled, then blew out, extinguishing the magic candles while Serana and the Greybeards applauded.

"So," the vampire threw her arms around Valkyrie's neck. "What did you wish for?"

The Nord only chuckled. "To be honest," she said, beaming back at Serana. "I think I have everything I could possibly want."

Serana scoffed, playfully smacking Valkyrie's forehead. "Well, in that case," she backed away, crossing her arms in an exaggerated manner. "Maybe I should just take back the present I got you."

"Wait, you got me a present?" Valkyrie asked, dumbfounded. "How? Neither of us have left the temple since we got here?"

"I have my ways," the vampire winked. "Long story short, I got a message to Klimmek in Ivarstead. Gave him some coin and had him go shopping for us in Riften. That's where the cake came from, and also..." Her hand moved into the magic pouch at her hip. After a moment of struggling, Serana revealed no less than five cases of wine, plopped carelessly on the stone table.

"That," Valkyrie's eyebrows shot upward. "Is a lot of wine."

"It is," Serana grinned evilly. "But I'd say you've earned it." She took a single bottle out of one of the cases, and faced over her shoulder to Arngeir. "You too, old man. You could do with some loosening up."

Arngeir laughed, shaking his head. "I said earlier that the Greybeards were young once, no?" The vampire raised an eyebrow. "So trust me when I say, that master Wulfgar being anywhere near alcohol is a bad idea." Both Valkyrie and Serana burst into laughter, while old Wulfgar simply shot Arngeir a death glare. "Have your fun," the old monk said as the Greybeards made to leave the room. "But just remember your training resumes tomorrow."

As the old men left the two women alone, Valkyrie looked over the table, slightly intimidated by the amount of drink in front of her. "Serana, this seems like a lot for one day," she said.

"Of course it's not all for one day," the vampire put an arm around Valkyrie's waist. "I just decided to stock up. It's been ages since I've had a good drink, and this seemed like a decent reason to have one." She gave the Nord a peck on the cheek. "We're just celebrating. We're not going to get sloshed."

Valkyrie was completely sloshed. Drunkenly waltzing around the snow-covered courtyard of High Hrothgar while Serana looked on, nearly unable to breathe from laughing so hard. What had began as a few sips of wine turned into splitting an entire bottle. Which then became Valkyrie downing a whole bottle and a half on her own. And now she was outside, hours later, her bare feet numb from the cold of the snow, Shouting her Voice at the wind.

"YOL!" A wave of fire erupted from Valkyrie's throat, the heat doing little to warm her in the brief seconds of its existence, as it was soon extinguished by the mountain wind. "Fuck!" She yelled, kicking at the snow. "What good is that fuckin' Shout if it disappears so quick? I wish those bastards would just teach me the next Word already!"

"Probably because they don't want a drunkard wielding such power," Serana said playfully. "I think you've had enough to drink, love."

Valkyrie hobbled over to where the vampire stood, and gently poked a finger into her chest. "Fuck you," the Nord said after a bit of silence. "I'm the Gods damned Dragonborn, I'll tell you when I've had enough." Every other word was slurred, and to make her point, Valkyrie simply went to down the remainder of the bottle that was in her hand. She managed to get a few gulps of wine in before Serana snatched the bottle from her, sighing wistfully. Valkyrie opened her mouth, as though she were going to yell at Serana, but instead burst out laughing. "You're probably right," she said, unable to keep her balance, thus turning to leaning against the vampire to stay upright. "I know you're just lookin' out for me." The Nord's face fell into the crook of the vampire's neck. "I don't say this enough," Valkyrie began, her voice muffled by Serana's neck. "But I love you."

Serana chuckled. "So you're that kind of drunk, I see."

"It's not 'cause I'm drunk," Valkyrie whined. "I mean it. You're so kind, and beautiful," she wrapped her arms around the vampire's torso. "And smart. And amazing in the sack."

"I know you mean it, love," Serana said in the motherly tone she could manage. "Especially that last part."

"Hmm," the Nord groaned. "Maybe you just wanted me drunk so you could have your way with me again."

"Like I need to get you drunk for that," the vampire sighed playfully. "Besides, the last time we did that, your Voice shook the entire mountain. I can only imagine what the villagers in Ivarstead thought."

Before Valkyrie's alcohol-addled mind could muster another response, the Greybeards appeared, seemingly out of nowhere as they tended to do, perhaps to come outside and meditate. But with a raging drunk Dragonborn running amok, any possibility of peace and quiet was thoroughly crushed. "Ah, look who it is," she slurred, a drunken smile on her face. "The old bastards who are too good to have a drink with us."

When Arngeir offered no response, just shaking his head as a disappointed mentor would do, Valkyrie grabbed the bottle from Serana's hand and quickly rushed to where the monks were standing, in a fashion only the Dragonborn could.

"WULD NAH!"

It was then that Valkyrie realized that perhaps she had indeed had too much to drink. The power of this Shout propelled her forward at blinding speed, but in her drunken state, she had significantly overshot her sprint, and ended up tackling poor Borri to the the ground. "Shit," she managed to groan as she rolled off the old man into the snow. "I'm so sorry. Are you okay?" It then hit her. "Oh right, you don't talk." She then looked back up to Arngeir, who proceeded to help Borri up. "Is he okay?"

"Master Borri will be fine, I believe," the lone vocal Greybeard said. "I'm more worried about you, young Dragonborn."

At the old man's insinuation, any qualms Valkyrie may have had about her alcohol intake dissipated in an instant. "Pffttt," she scoffed at him, stumbling to her feet. "Come on, Arngeir," she said. "It's a celebration!" She raised the almost empty bottle in the air. "Twenty two years ago, my mother and father just couldn't keep it in their pants. And nine months later, I showed up. Just a simple miner's daughter destined to save the world from..." She went silent for some time, mouth still agape. "Something."

The Nord's drunken rambling was at last cut off by Serana once again grabbing the bottle from her hand. "You are gone, woman," she said, her previously amused demeanor now giving way to genuine concern. "I think you probably need to sleep this off."

"You know what else is gone?" Valkyrie snickered. She leaned downward, trying and failing miserably to be subtle as she picked a handful of snow from the ground. "Your face!" She yelled as she attempted to hit Serana with a snowball, one the vampire easily side stepped. Valkyrie's wrist was quickly seized in Serana's grasp, and the vampire began dragging her towards the temple.

"Come on, love," Serana said. "Bed time."

"But I don't wanna!" Valkyrie moaned, managing to wry herself free of the vampire's grip. "I'm having fun! Oh, speaking of which," she chuckled. "I think I know someone else who needs to have some fun..."

"What are you talking about?" Serana asked. "What are you doing?"

"Relax, Serana," Valkyrie slurred. "Just inviting an old friend of ours to join the party!"

The vampire's eyes suddenly went wide. "Don't you dare," she said quietly. "Val, that is a very bad idea!"

"DUR NEH VIIR!"

The instant Valkyrie Shouted skyward, that familiar violet aura appeared behind her, nearly blinding both Serana and the Greybeards, who did their best to shield their eyes. When the light faded, in its place stood none other than Durnehviir, the dragon from Oblivion. The great beast bowed its head to Valkyrie, while the Nord attempted to do the same, only just barely keeping her balance. The Greybeards were in awe, as soon as the dragon appeared, every one of them dropped to their knees.

"Drem Yol Lok, greetings, Qahnaarin," Durnehviir's massive, booming voice sounded out. "Any new or interesting prey for me to slaughter?"

"Not today," Valkyrie said, shrugging. "I was just having a bit of fun and thought you could use a break from the Soul Cairn."

The dragon gave a laugh. "Well, I am appreciative regardless."

"Don't mention it," Valkyrie said in between a hiccup. "So, funny story. It turns out there was a reason I could use the Voice so easily..."

"You don't say,"

"Yup. Dragonborn," the Nord exclaimed, posing dramatically in all her drunken glory.

Durnehviir let out a noise, one that could almost be taken as a gasp. "Dovahkiin?" He asked. "Truly?" Valkyrie nodded. "Interesting. I have only met one other like you, but... well, I would prefer not to speak of him."

"Preferring not to tell me things," Valkyrie scoffed. "Seems you have more in common with these old bastards than I thought."

The dragon then turned his attention to the Greybeards, still bowed in reverence. "Ah," Durnehviir said lowly. "I see you have brought me a few morsels. It has been ages since I tasted mortal flesh..."

"Hey!" Valkyrie managed to use the Thu'um to get the dragon's attention. "They are friends, not food!" She scolded him. "Behave yourself! I brought you into this world, and I can take you out!"

Durnehviir grumbled, hanging his head at Valkyrie's reprimand. "Krosis, my apologies," he said, clearly annoyed.

"Oh, I can't stay mad at you," Valkyrie started, but then paused suddenly, her eyes now struggling to stay open. "Well," she said. "I hate to cut our reunion short, but it seems I'm gonna pass out now." These were the Nord's last words before she collapsed to the ground. Serana rushed over, placing a finger on Valkyrie's neck just to make sure her lover hadn't drank herself to death.

"She's fine," the vampire announced to everyone around. "Just unconscious."

"What is wrong with Qahnaarin?" Durnehviir asked.

"She's just drunk," Serana sighed. "Very, very drunk."

The dragon just laughed. "Well, if her intoxication allowed me to be free of the Soul Cairn for a bit, I will take it." He then lifted his head skyward, inhaling deeply. "Now then," he said. "Since Qahnaarin slumbers away her drunkenness, I would prefer to use what little time I have on this plane to go and speak with an old friend..."

"Hold on, what?" The vampire questioned.

Durnehviir gave her no answer. Instead, the great beast simply flapped his wings, rising into the air and blowing snow in every direction in the process. Flying off into the sky, the dragon had left Serana with so many new questions. She turned to the Greybeards. "What did he mean by an old friend?" She asked. "He's been trapped in Oblivion for at least a thousand years."

"I haven't the slightest clue," Arngeir said.

There was something about the old man's response which made Serana suspicious that he wasn't being entirely honest with her, but the vampire decided not to push it at that moment. Instead, she simply picked Valkyrie's unconscious body off the ground and slung the Nord over her shoulder. "Come on, you," she said. "Let's get you some rest."

12th of Last Seed, 4E 201

Valkyrie stood in the center of the courtyard, clad in the Armor of Auri-El, her weapons about her for a change. After nearly an entire year at High Hrothgar, it was at last time for the Greybeards to test her Thu'um in combat. The Nord's hand nervously hovered above the hilt of her blade, awaiting whatever challenge the old men may have thrown at her. All four Greybeards, as well as Serana stood some distance away in observance, all seeming equally ready for the Dragonborn's trial. "Are you ready?" Arngeir asked at last.

Valkyrie inhaled deeply, drawing her sword. "As I'll ever be."

"Very well then. Let us begin," the monk bowed, before exchanging a look with his fellows. Then, in perfect unison, the four of them Shouted...

"FIIK LO SAH!"

At least a dozen specters were summoned, all surrounding Valkyrie. She only had a split second to react before every last one of them charged at her. Seeing no way through a solid wall of her attackers, she faced at the ground and Shouted, "FUS RO!" The force of her Voice propelled the Nord into the air, just barely grazing by the grasp of the phantoms, who all rushed through one another, intangible. As Valkyrie landed on her feet, one of the familiars came for her again, its body permeating with ice. The Dragonborn dodged a few of its strikes, and quickly put an end to the ghost with another Shout. "YOL TOOR!"

The familiar disintegrated at the fire that Valkyrie spat forward, and so she turned to the rest of them. Two were coming at her from the very front, and one from the side. She readied herself, blade in hand for her attackers, but another unseen specter landed in a hit from behind. Valkyrie fell to her stomach, and quickly changed plans. Unable to get away in time before the four ghosts reached her, she Shouted once more.

"TIID!"

Everything slowed down to a snail's pace. Valkyrie was shocked, as she hadn't even been sure the Shout would work. But it did, and she went to work quickly, jumping to her feet, and slicing through every last familiar with the edge of her blade, all four of them dissipating in an instant. Time then began to renew its normal pace, and the remainder of the ghosts were now keeping their distance, wary of the Dragonborn. But Valkyrie wasn't about to let them keep away from her. She Shouted yet again, "WULD!" In almost an instant, the distance between herself and the phantoms was closed, and her blade met with the form of one, eliminating it from the field.

It was now that Valkyrie's throat was beginning to burn quite excruciatingly. The Voice was taking its toll on her, whether this was due to her inexperience, or simply her frail mortal body was unknown. But any more Shouting would have to wait a bit. She sheathed her blade, now favoring an attack of a magical nature, as her palms began to radiate with sun magic. There were about seven more familiars, and two of them rushed Valkyrie from either side. She quickly put an end to both with a blinding bolt of magic.

Finally, another came at her from the front, this one much quicker than the others. She tried to block the specter's blows but the damned apparition was just too fast for Valkyrie, and delivered a series of shots to her torso. The Dragonborn backed away, trying to give herself some distance. This was to no avail, as the familiar stayed on her, striking away at her midsection, each blow forcing her back further and knocking ever more breath out of her. Finally, the ghost had pushed Valkyrie away from the courtyard, all the way to the cliff's edge. Seeing no other options, rather than let the phantom push her off the edge and fall to her death, Valkyrie suddenly rushed forward.

The familiar went intangible just before she made contact with it, but it was just enough to give Valkyrie the space she needed. She drew her blade once more and imbued it with a layer of sun magic. When the ghost came to attack once more, its form met the end of her weapon and it vanished. There were only four more specters left, each of them lined up neatly in a line back in the center of the courtyard, almost too still. Valkyrie cautiously inched her way towards them, unwilling to bet that the four forms had suddenly decided to peaceably surrender.

She was proven right, as suddenly each of the ghosts began to drift closer to one another, their incorporeal forms melding and merging. When it finally finished, the new form that stared Valkyrie down was a touch more intimidating. It looked... bestial, but not in a way she had ever seen. The Nord nervously backed up, waiting for the now much larger and more menacing ghost to make the first move. As it turned out, she needn't have waited long. The familiar's entire frame began to brim with fire, and it charged for her, shaking the ground with each step. Valkyrie attempted to roll out of the terror's way, but it caught her in the midsection and sent her rolling.

The Nord got up quickly, but the phantom was on her again, swiping with its massive arms at her body, its sheer size making it a challenge to maneuver around. At last one of the strikes came just a bit slower than the others, and Valkyrie took advantage. She summoned a sizable chunk of her magicka, and blasted a ray of sun at the monster's form, knocking it onto its back. The Dragonborn thought she might be gaining the upper hand, but the ghost rose again far too quickly, the fire surrounding its form now burning brighter and hotter.

Well shit, she thought to herself, drawing her blade once more. That didn't work. Let's see here...

The familiar clasped both its hands together, bringing them down towards Valkyrie's frame, only for her to roll in between its legs and run her blade right into where its spinal column would be. The phantom roared with pain, but its pace was not slowed even slightly, as it quickly reared back, smacking into Valkyrie's body with a vicious back hand. The Dragonborn was sent off her feet, flying some distance away, but managed, even in her disoriented state, to land back on her feet. The phantom stepped closer to her, slower than before this time, and she finally relented. This thing's on fire, she thought, readying herself. So ice would be the best form of attack. She growled to herself. Shame they only taught me the first Word for this one.

"FO!"

Much like the fire of earlier, this time a blast of pure ice erupted from Valkyrie's mouth, stopping the ghost in its tracks. Her throat continued to burn, but it seemed that there was only one sure way to defeat this beast, and so she Shouted again. "FO!" This time the specter fell onto its back, barely moving, and the pain emitting from Valkyrie's throat nearly had her in tears. Yet her adversary still persisted, slowly attempting to rise from its back, only to fail miserably, waddling around in agony. Taking deep, heavy breaths, Valkyrie braced herself for the incoming pain, and Shouted for a final time.

"FO!"

The ice from her mouth at last banished the familiar from existence, and the burning pain in Valkyrie's throat grew to sensations she hadn't known possible. She dropped to one knee, a hand clutching at her neck while she used her blade to keep her balance. It was agony, using the Voice so many times in quick succession. Valkyrie pondered briefly how exactly the Tongues of old were able to wield such power as they did, when after a few quick Shouts, she felt as though her throat were burning a hole right through her skin.

Suddenly, Valkyrie was surrounded by the Greybeards, as well as Serana, who knelt down beside her, clearly concerned. "Are you alright?" Asked the vampire.

The Dragonborn tried to speak, but only a raspy, hollow pant came out. The fear that swept through her mind at that moment was indescribable. Had she just lost her Voice simply by using it too much? Had the Greybeards been wrong about the Dragonborn being the exception to the Gods' rules, and now the Divines sought to punish her? It was seemingly absurd, but in the moment, Valkyrie's mind raced, until Arngeir finally spoke, resting down beside her.

"Ah yes," the old man said calmly. "This does sometimes happen. Come with me, Dragonborn," he rose to his feet. "I shall prepare you some tea. You will be fine in a few hours."

Thankfully, Arngeir had been right. A few mugs full of the old monk's special brew, along with a bit of time resting her Thu'um, and Valkyrie felt brand new, albeit her voice still a bit hoarse from all the Shouting. She, Serana, as well as all four of the Greybeards sat gathered around the table in the meeting hall in silence. The vampire hadn't stopped showering her with concern since she had collapsed in the courtyard, despite Valkyrie and Arngeir's reassurance that she was fine. At last, after what seemed like ages, the old man spoke.

"Well," he said. "Now that it's over, I must say," he raise a mug to Valkyrie. "Never in all my years have I seen such graceful mastery of the Voice."

Valkyrie laughed. "I don't know if being left unable to speak would be considered graceful."

"Ah, but that was only a fraction of what transpired in your trial, Dragonborn," the old man continued to shower her with praise. "The rest of it, your effortless demonstration of the Thu'um, it was a sight to behold."

"Thank you for the kind words, but..." the Dragonborn sighed. "I can't help thinking about how I ended up. I thought being Dragonborn meant I could use the Voice without the restrictions of others."

"You can," the monk explained. "But despite possessing the soul of a dragon, your body is mortal. Thus even the Dragonborn has their limits." He took a sip of his tea. "Make no mistake, however. Your body's tolerance of the Voice already far exceeds that of the Greybeards. And I can only guess it will grow with time and practice."

"But you won't be able to do limitlessly?" Serana pondered out loud, while Valkyrie only shrugged.

"That's probably for the best," the Nord said.

"Indeed," Arngeir concluded. "And now that your Voice has been tested, there is only one more trial for you to complete."

"Another trial?" Valkyrie asked. "What's this one for?"

"This one is more of a... formality," the monk said. "A quest that has been carried out by every Dragonborn, from Tiber Septim onward. We ask that you venture to the resting place of Jurgen Windcaller, and retrieve his horn. After which, your training will be complete, and we will be able to formally bestow upon you the title of Ysmir."

The last word caught Valkyrie's attention rather suddenly. She quickly put down her mug, eyes wide with apprehension. In her time at High Hrothgar, the Greybeards had taught her much of the ancient Nordic pantheon, enough to know that Ysmir was simply another name for Talos, the hero god of mankind, supposedly given to none other than Tiber Septim himself when he ascended to godhood upon his death. The insinuation made Valkyrie rather nervous for a multitude of reasons. "Why do you need to name me Ysmir?" She asked.

"It is tradition," Arngeir said. "Every Dragonborn emperor, from Tiber Septim, all the way down his bloodline to Uriel VII, were named Ysmir by the Greybeards." This did a bit to ease Valkyrie's nerves, but not nearly as much as she would have liked.

"Alright, but," the younger Nord continued. "I figured that tradition had died out. Considering there haven't been any Dragonborn for centuries. And since Talos worship is outlawed in the Empire."

"The Greybeards are independent from any nation or ruler," the old man said rather firmly. "Imperial laws have no bearing on our sacred traditions."

Valkyrie wasn't buying it. She slowly stood up from her chair, looking the monk dead in the eyes, and to his credit, he didn't flinch. "Arngeir," the Dragonborn asked calmly, but her tone suggesting she was mortally serious. "What aren't you telling me?"

The old man simply sighed. "Retrieve the horn of Jurgen Windcaller," he said. "And all will be revealed to you."

"No!" She used the Voice, and at last Arngeir began to show signs of fear. All four Greybeards, as well as Serana stood up from their chairs, nervously waiting to see what Valkyrie was going to do. She immediately regretted herself, and took a deep breath. "Listen, Arngeir," she began again, her tone much softer this time. "I don't want to seem ungrateful for your training. I'm not." One of her hands balled into a fist. "But I am so sick of being jerked around by everyone. Insane priests, Daedric Princes, dragons, ancient Elves, and now you." She sat back down, trying to calm herself. "I don't want to hear that I have a destiny, I want to know what it is. So please, Arngeir," she looked at him yet again. "Tell me what you know."

The old man was silent for some time, eyes darting around the room as he exchanged looks with his fellow Greybeards, Serana, and Valkyrie several times over. At last, with seemingly no other recourse, the old man relented. "Very well," he said with a sigh. "Though I expect you will be disappointed."

"Surprise me," Valkyrie said.

"Saint Alessia, Reman Cyrodiil, Tiber Septim," Arngeir began. "Some of the greatest heroes of legend all possessed the dragon blood. The details cannot be known to me, as I was not blessed with the gift," he explained. "But simply by being Dragonborn, you are destined to be their equal."

Valkyrie was silent for several moments, looking only at Arngeir, until she finally stood up, shaking her head. "I don't know what I expected," she said with a sigh.

"I'm afraid I don't follow," the old monk replied.

"You honestly think I'm supposed to be some hero of song and legend?" the Dragonborn asked, disbelief overtaking her. "What in Oblivion makes you think I should even be spoken in the same breath as any of them?"

"I think a better question," Serana finally spoke after being silent for so long. The vampire faced Valkyrie directly, hands on her hips. "Is why are you so unable to believe it?"

"You're taking their side?" The Nord asked.

"I'm not taking anyone's side, love," Serana shot back at her. "I'm just asking you to take a deep breath and think." When given no response, the vampire only continued. "Look at you. You've been given this amazing gift, far beyond anything most mortals could ever hope to achieve. The only others in history who've had the gift were kings, emperors, legends, heroes." She stepped forward, resting a hand on Valkyrie's shoulder. "Do you think any of them became that way overnight?"

"They also had armies, followers," Valkyrie said, her gaze shifting to the floor. "People who practically worshiped them. Who am I compared to that?"

"I think," the vampire moved her hand, now caressing the Nord's cheek. "You need to stop thinking about how you see yourself, and start thinking about how others see you."

"What do you mean?" The Dragonborn asked.

"You're so humble," Serana chuckled. "You see yourself as just an ordinary person, despite being Dragonborn. It's a good trait to have, but..." she shook her head. "When I look at you, I see an unstoppable force of nature. Who else could face down my father so fearlessly?"

"I had you there to help me," Valkyrie said.

"And you always will," Serana smiled. "But that's besides the point. All the people Arngeir named, none of them thought at the beginning that their names would be the subject of ballads for centuries to come." She forced Valkyrie's face upward, so that the two could gaze into each other's eyes. "You're scared, nervous, and I get that. But you need to see this through."

The Nord sighed. "I don't know..."

"Please," the vampire said softly. "If nothing else, do it for me."

Valkyrie stared into her lover's gaze for some time, considering her words. Perhaps Serana was right, and she truly was destined to be a hero of song and legend like the Dragonborn of old? That the old monks weren't crazy for believing her to be their equal? She turned back to Arngeir finally. "So let's say I bring you the horn," she said to him. "The Greybeards name me Ysmir. What happens after that?"

"Well, your training will be complete," Arngeir said. "You will always have a place here at High Hrothgar, but from that point, it is up to you to decide where your path takes you."

She considered his words briefly, hoping with everything she had that once she completed this task, it would finally bring all this nonsense to an end. She wasn't sure what to make of Serana's speech, nor of the Greybeards' belief that she was a legend in the making. But, the Dragonborn relented, it would at least be worth it to find out for herself. "Alright," she said. "I'll do it."

The sun had already dipped below the horizon as Valkyrie and Serana reached the starting point of the Seven Thousand Steps at the base of the mountain. Ivory, as well as Serana's yet unnamed horse, appeared exhausted. Fitting, as it seemed most of Ivarstead was indoors already, preparing to bring the day to a close. Valkyrie didn't mind, as she herself felt the immense urge to sleep off the anxiety and doubtfulness she had experienced ever since Arngeir had revealed to her what he believed to be her destiny.

Taking the lead, Valkyrie headed straight for the nearby inn, ready to rent a room, drink herself to sleep, and snuggle up next to Serana until the morning light. Her plans seemed to derail the moment she and the vampire hitched their horses next to the building, as a man quickly approached them, more specifically, approached Serana. He was rather large, dressed in rags, bald, facial hair wild and unkempt. What was more noticeable was the glazed over look in his eyes, as though he were under a trance. "Are you Serana?" He asked rather lazily.

The Nord and the vampire quickly exchanged glances with one another. "Yes?" Serana apparently decided to take a chance on this man. "Who are you?"

The man gave no name, instead he only bowed to her, revealing a sealed letter. "My mistress has commanded me to deliver this message to you." She nervously took the letter from him, only for the man to shoot back upright as soon as the parchment had left his grasp. "And now that my task is complete, I must return to her." With this, the man turned on his heel, and bolted off to the edge of the village and beyond, quickly out of sight, as fast as his legs seemed able to carry him.

"What the fuck was that?" Valkyrie asked.

"That," Serana said, inspecting the letter. "Was a vampire's thrall. Which leads me to believe..." Her voice trailed off as she unsealed the letter. "Yep. This is my mother's penmanship." The Nord quickly moved closer, spying the letter over her lover's shoulder as Serana read aloud. "Serana," she began. "I do hope Valkyrie and yourself are doing well. I realize you must be having a grand time gallivanting around the province with her, but recent events have transpired that have left me requiring your assistance." Serana stopped, raising an eyebrow. "The matter is quite urgent. Unfortunately, I cannot say more in this letter, just know that I desperately need your help. I have no one else to turn to. When you get this message, please make haste to Castle Volkihar, and I will explain all to you. Your loving mother, Valerica."

Serana stared at the letter for quite a while, taking in exactly what Valerica had written. When a pureblood vampire was worried and nervous, and needed to reach out for help, it meant matters were deadly serious, and she needed to get to the castle quickly. "Shit," the vampire said, at last turning back to Valkyrie.

"I guess the horn of Jurgen Windcaller can wait," the Nord said.

Serana looked back down at her mother's letter, before shaking her head. "No, it can't."

"What?" Valkyrie asked. "So you're just going to ignore Valerica?"

"I didn't say that. I think..." The vampire sighed. "We both have things to do that are extremely important, and neither of them can afford to be put on hold for the other. Val, I..." she paused, taking a deep breath. "I think we need to split up for a bit."

The Nord's stomach sank. "Are you kidding?" She asked. "After that big speech earlier about how I'll always have you there?"

"I meant what I said," Serana replied. "But this is something I need to do. And going to get the horn is something you need to do."

Valkyrie struggled with her lover's words. On one hand, Serana was absolutely right. The vampire had to help her mother with whatever it was that was so dangerous for her to reach out for help. And she, the Dragonborn, had to complete the trial that those before her hand. But at the same time, they had been travelling together for so long, grown so close and attached, that the Nord wasn't sure she would know what to do without Serana at her side. At last, Valkyrie sighed. "Okay."

With her acceptance, Serana rushed forward, throwing her arms around the Nord's neck and forcing her into a warming embrace. She then pulled back, but only slightly, as to press their lips together. When the two finally pulled away from one another, their breaths were slightly more heavy and labored, but both had taken in the meaning. "You be safe, okay?" Serana said.

"And you be careful," Valkyrie said back, before the both of them declared in unison...

"I love you."

The vampire moved away from the Dragonborn, off to where their horses were hitched up next to the tavern. Oddly enough, Serana's black coated stallion seemed to be taking a liking to Ivory, Valkyrie's snow white mare. The irony wasn't lost on either of the two, as the vampire remarked as she saddled up. "Seems even our horses are in love. In that case, I think I've got a name for him."

"Oh?" Valkyrie asked.

"Yep," Serana smirked. "I'll call him Ebony."

These were the vampire's last words, before flicking the reins of her horse and riding off into the sunset, leaving Valkyrie proud, but also conflicted. She took a seat on the front porch of the inn, next to Ivory, pondering exactly what it was she was feeling. The vampire hadn't even been gone a full minute, and already Valkyrie missed her like crazy. The Nord laughed. She truly did have it bad for Serana.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do now?"