CHAPTER 67: THE SONG

A circle of dragonfire protected Lucy as she slumbered in dreamless sleep.

It shone brightly in the darkness, burning away all the serpents that crawled from the depths of the shadows. The presence of evil lingered there on the edge of her world as an ever-waking, all-seeing Eye gazed at her from the distance. Lucy's dragons guarded her against its influence, and for now, she could rest at peace, only for a moment.

Though Krosulhah might've been the first to initiate protecting the Dragonborn, Milmurnir and Sahloknir joined the task after witnessing the unfolding pain in her heart that had nearly doomed them into the hands of a demon. They had been mending parts of her soul, burning away the devastating poison cast by the sorcerers of Forelhost, yet there was only so much the dead could do. If she were to slip into another limbo of dreams within dreams within dreams, Hermaous Mora might finally have her in His unyielding grasp.

And that would mean the end of them all.

The serpents hissed as they reached the flame, dissolving into ashes in its heat. No other sound filled the silence – the dragons had gone quiet long ago, as their Thu'um could no longer improve the Dragonborn's condition. The rest was up to her own strength, her own will to heal, and only time could tell how much she could retrieve from the Void. Ripped from her soul by the wicked sorcery, some of her memories and knowledge would remain forever lost – she would have to carry on without them, and perhaps that was for the best, maybe even necessary for her healing.

However, a deep concern was rooted in the soul of Milmurnir. The dragon was aware of the Dragonborn's company. It wasn't the keeper of Agnolok's fire who bothered him, but the presence of a Blade, who was leading her astray. Milmurnir remembered the old Akaviri and the principles they followed, that still guided their descendants. Blinded by greed and hatred, the hunters of the dragonkind failed to see what was truly important. And Milmurnir, in his wisdom, had hoped the Dragonborn would not be blinded the same.

"She will awaken soon. Our efforts haven't been in vain," said Milmurnir to the other dragons, breaking the long silence. "It will be time to tell her of the falsehood of her next task. The temple of the Akaviri holds no answers to her questions."

Sahloknir remained silent while Krosulhah lifted her wings, gazing down at the sleeping Dragonborn. "Yes, indeed. The journey is long. Too long for her to survive in her current state of being. Either her physical body perishes, or her soul withers. Whatever happens first, we know what will harvest us then."

The Eye turned towards them from the distance.

"Old One could help her now," Milmurnir answered quietly. "Her condition is too grave for us to heal. The Thu'um of the living is far greater than the Thu'um of the dead. Mere echoes aren't enough to put her together again."

"But Paathurnax was banished from this world with Alduin," Sahloknir said. "I never heard of him since Alduin first fell."

"No. He still keeps watch at the peak of the mountain, yet he's been rather… gifted at avoiding the reunion with Alduin. His Thu'um is concealed, though still strong. He has confined himself into eternal silence, but when he speaks again, the earth will shake and the skies shall bleed," Milmurnir said. "The Dragonborn must go to him."

Sahloknir growled at the Eye which stared at them. They might not be able to keep secrets from the Daedric Prince of Knowledge, but His presence here bothered the green dragon. "Alduin must be searching for the Old One with Odahviing. Is it wise to bring her to him now?"

"Now is the best chance. Odahviing has flown to Atmora, where Alduin has gone to search for his fallen brethren and resurrect the dead dragons of the north. That's where most of the ancient dragons retreated at the end of the war to die. It would be wisest to reach out to Paathurnax before Alduin returns to Tamriel with his army."

"You speak true, Milmurnir," Krosulhah replied. "But why did you keep this knowledge from Odahviing, your father? I believe he wasn't aware of the Old One."

"It was the wish of Paathurnax. I used to visit him from time to time, but it has been so long since I last met him. I have seen the sorrow of the Old One. The grief for our kin's doom. I and Paathurnax were one of the few who witnessed the annihilation of dragonkind. We know the sadness in being last of our race," Milmurnir said. "And though my loyalty bound me to my father, who slumbered for centuries, I never… betrayed my promise to Paathurnax. I know his way, his path, is the only solution. We all must follow it, or be crushed underneath it."

Then, from the distance, a sudden song carried through the darkness.

The dragons turned towards the voice. On the edge of the ether, magical energy formed into the shape of a ghostly woman. A soul, perished long ago, crossed the impassable bridge and invaded the burial ground of the dead dragons. Such a thing was not supposed to be possible – unable to understand it, they watched as the woman walked closer to them, ever singing in the language of the dragons.

Lucy began to stir awake as she heard the song, one she recognized far too well.

The serpents withered as the woman stepped on them, so great was the magic that seeped from her that it burned through the darkness like fire itself. Emanating bright light, she walked through the veil of dragonfire. She greeted the dragons as she passed them by – and as they looked into her eyes, the reason for her presence was clear. Only the Dragonborn were able to reach this place, concealed in between the worlds.

And she was one.

The ghostly woman knelt beside her sleeping daughter. She placed her hand on Lucy's head, stroking her hair, still singing. The dragons observed it all in perfect silence, and even the hissing of the serpents went quiet. Far in the distance, the Eye still stared at them – but when Layla Heartfilia stared back at it, the Eye closed, and for just a moment, its presence disappeared.

When the demons were gone, she bent closer to Lucy, whispering into her ear. "My beloved daughter, there's so much I need to tell you, yet so little time. Hearken now." Then she looked up, gazing into the souls of the dead dragons, as if upon an instant she could read what they had talked about. "The path you walk upon is leading towards your ultimate death. You have to turn back, you have to heal, you have to learn the truth. To the Old One you must go."

Then Lucy opened her eyes. Even in the dream, she looked so scared, fearing she was about to relive another nightmare. Too often had she witnessed the death of her family, over and over again.

"Mom?"

"I am here, but for a moment. Listen to me now, dear," Layla answered with a warm smile. "The seven thousand steps you must climb, once more, to the Greybeards you must speak. Their leader, Paathurnax, is the one who can help you now."

She shook her head gently. "What… who? Paathurnax? But… "

"He was there that day when Alduin fell. Only he can guide your way, so that Alduin can fall again, one final time," Layla said. "The knowledge has been erased from the history of the worlds. Only the Old One still knows. There are demons who seek that knowledge, and you shall not give it to them. Change the course of fate. Fulfil your destiny as it's foretold in our blood."

And only then, she seemed to understand her mother was truly there, and it was not a dream. Sadness flooded into her eyes, replacing the confusion with tears. Shaking, Lucy wrapped her arms around Layla – for one brief moment, they were finally united, in the realm where only the Dragonborn could pass.

"Mom, I've missed you so much," Lucy kept muttering, "I'm scared. I don't know if I can do this." She lifted her eyes to her mother. "Please don't tell me you'll be gone when I awaken."

"I'm on my way to return to the gods, my dear. But you're not alone, not ever. Always remember that," Layla answered, wiping away the tears on her face. "The veil is thin. I'm forever watching over you, and there comes a day when we'll meet again." She smiled. "Before I go, I will sing for you, the lullaby that has been passed down in our blood."

Layla closed her daughter into her arms, reminiscing about the time she was still a helpless child – how fast time had passed, for now, she was a warrior, a hero, the one who could prevent this world from doom. And for that, she had to let her child go – this moment, this memory, would be all she'd hold in her heart. Layla stroked Lucy's back as she wept, knowing she would be strong after this.

Then she began to sing the song of the Dragonborn.

The world of the dragons faded as the sun rose, and Lucy awakened alone in the kitchen hall of Helgen Keep. An ethereal feeling lingered in her chest, a memory so crystal clear – lost words of an ancient song, imprinted on her mind like burn marks caused by dragonfire. She could remember Layla embracing her and singing her a lullaby one last time, the one she always sang, but only now, did Lucy hear the words.

Her mother had sung in the language of the dragons.

Slowly, Lucy sat up on the bedroll, wrapping the fur cloak tighter around herself. Fire danced in the hearth, warming her from afar. It was Natsu's fire, she knew – even though he wasn't there now, he hadn't gone far. Perhaps he had sworn that he'd return by the time she'd awaken, but something hindered him, and that was okay. Lucy knew he would come back. She let her eyes rest on the flames, quietly starting to hum.

"Hearken now, sons of snow, to an age, long ago," she whispered, astonished at how well the words fit the melody she had always known, even after she translated them from Dovahzul to her own language. "And the tale, boldly told of the one, who was kin to both wyrm and the races of man, with a power to rival the sun."

Chills ran down her backbone as the realization came to her suddenly like a lightning strike. For so long had she wondered where the Dragonblood came to her, and now the answer was there.

It had been her mother who passed it down to her.

"And as the Scrolls have foretold, of black wings in the cold, when brothers wage war come unfurled," she hummed, "Alduin, Bane of Kings, ancient shadow unbound, with a hunger to swallow the world."

The song was supposed to be lost in time. That's what she had always thought. A long lost melody, words long forgotten, wiped from the pages of history. Yet her mother had held them in her heart all this time. Did she know? Lucy wondered. All this time, did she know we carry the Dragonblood within us? I was perfectly unaware of it my whole life, until I'd slain my first dragon. How could've mother…

Perhaps, not during her life. Even looking back, Lucy could not recall one moment when her mother had been consciously aware of being a Dragonborn. Yet, it must've changed when she perished in the great fire of Helgen three moons ago. No longer bound in the corporal body, her immortal soul could shift between the dimensions of worlds – Lucy was not entirely sure what happened to the Dragonborn after their death, especially if they hadn't killed any dragons, but she assumed they returned to Akatosh, the father of all dragons.

And now, her deceased mother had blessed her with the most important knowledge so far.

"But a day shall arise when the dark dragon's lies will be silenced forever and then, fair Skyrim will be free from foul Alduin's maw, Dragonborn be the saviour of men."

She sat on her knees, staring into the fire in utter silence, and couldn't realise she was crying until she felt the tears falling down to her hands. Yesterday, she had been ready to throw it all away – this fate on her shoulders had been too much, too heavy a burden to carry. Now she understood why it had been bestowed to her, why she'd been chosen, and no doubt lingered in her heart any longer.

Her mother, and the gods themselves, trusted in her. Why have a gift and not embrace it, when all she needed was faith? Faith in the power that coursed through her blood, a bright beautiful light shining within her like a fire.

Then, Lucy realised she was no longer alone in the chamber. A calm presence stood in the doorway, yet somehow afraid to step in. She knew it was Natsu. He'd been listening to her singing, and something within him had forced him to a halt, frozen on the threshold. Lucy glanced over her shoulder and her eyes met his. Without any words, she knew he'd been crying – as if he'd just witnessed a deep truth, leaving him forever changed. Lucy smiled softly, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

'I couldn't do this without you,' she thought, suddenly bound in silence, 'I couldn't face this on my own. Thank you, for being on my side. Together, we can win this war.'

Somehow, it seemed Natsu would've been just about to say the same thing, but neither of them said a word about it.

"Come on in," Lucy whispered to him. "I've things to tell you."

Natsu nodded, closed the door behind him and walked into the chamber. He took a seat by the table. Lucy rose in return and seated on the chair opposite him. All the tension of last night was washed away, replaced by melancholic calm, that one kind that lingered in the air on late autumn mornings. Lucy's memories of the past weeks were all over the place, but yesterday was the only day she could truly remember, as despair had burned its mark on her soul – and her mother's words had soothed even that.

"I met my mother in the realms of the dead dragons," she started, looking into him. There was no doubt in his eyes, only trust – any other man would've thought she'd lost her mind, rambling about otherworldly realms where dead dragons dwelled, but he trusted every word she said. "And she told me to find Paathurnax, the leader of the Greybeards. Apparently, he's the only one who can help me to restore my soul after… after all that's happened."

Natsu remained quiet for a while, rubbing his chin. "What about the Akaviri temple, where Gildarts is taking us?"

Lucy shook her head. "I'm not supposed to go there. The truths I must find are not found there. Returning to High Hrotghar at once…" Then she looked down at her hands, flinching at the sight of her bony wrists. "…is the only thing that can save me. I won't be able to make such a long journey in this condition."

"Climbing back to High Hrothgar won't be easy either," Natsu said. "We would have to go back to Ivarstead, and then take the Seven Thousand Steps. Still remember what happened last time?"

"Vaguely."

"I could protect you, but it's still a dangerous trip. I doubt Gildarts would accompany us if we decided to turn back now," Natsu answered and absentmindedly wiped his tired eyes. "Honestly, I'd take you to Riverwood right away and stay there until you're in better shape. You look like you'd be taken with the wind. I don't really –"

"I understand your concern, but High Hrothgar is the best place for me to heal. Staying in an inn at Riverwood will be a waste of precious time. And yes, the Blade won't accept this, but we must leave behind everything that –"

"Everything that opposes you?"

Natsu and Lucy turned their heads towards the door. Gildarts stood there, his analysing gaze stuck on both of them. He must've not been listening for long, but long enough to realise their plans of leaving him behind. A frown deepened on his forehead, his disapproval clear.

"Yes," Lucy said, confidence in her voice. "We are not going to Sky Haven Temple. Whatever secrets lie there, we will not discover. I was guided in the right direction, and I shall not question this guidance."

Gildarts shrugged as he stepped into the chamber. "I see. But I doubt High Hrothgar is in the right direction. I advise you to think carefully upon this decision –"

"The decision is already made."

Gildarts sighed, leaning his back against the closed door. "And what would you possibly do there? You'd do nothing but sit up on their mountain with them and talk to the sky, or whatever it is they do. The Greybeards are so afraid of power that they won't use it. Think about it. Have they tried to stop the civil war, or done anything about Alduin? No. And they're afraid of you, of your power. Trust me, there's no need to be afraid. Think of Tiber Septim. Do you think he'd have founded the Empire if he'd listened to the Greybeards?"

"I'm not here to build an Empire, I'm here to stop Alduin. And this is the next step I must take. They might've told me to be careful, but I'm not afraid of my own power. All the great heroes have had to learn to use their power, and this is me choosing to tap further into it. Those that shrank from their destiny... well, you've never heard of them, have you?"

Gildarts fell silent for a moment. "There are still things in Sky Haven Temple that are crucial for stopping Alduin. His fall is documented on the wall, and your blood is the only way to gain entrance to the temple. If not –"

Then Lucy stood from the chair. With wobbly steps, she walked to the shelves at the back of the kitchen chamber and picked a small, empty vial, possibly used for spices. She turned towards the old Blade, slid her dagger out of its sheath, and slashed it on her palm. Natsu flinched at the sight of her blood dripping into the bottle, gazing at her with wide frightened eyes, but unable to say a single word to stop her. Lucy smirked and closed the wound with sorcery when the bottle was full. Then she closed it and walked up to Gildarts, offering the vial to the tall man.

"There's my blood."

Gildarts held the bottle on his palm, drops of spilt blood staining his weathered skin. He stared at it for a while, then lifted his eyes back to Lucy, who had already returned to the table.

"You may use it to enter the temple, but if you sell it to some shady necromancer, I will curse your soul to Oblivion," Lucy said. "We already got the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller for you. That was, actually, all we came here for. Hadn't you taken it, I would've returned to High Hrothgar to finish my training long ago."

"If the Greybeards truly know a way to defeat Alduin, why haven't they told it already? You don't really think they can be trusted, do you?"

"They have told me the things I'm ready to understand. And besides, it's not the monks I must talk with, but their leader. I wasn't able to meet him earlier, but now the time has come."

"Their leader? Wasn't there only four of them?"

"That, I believe, is none of your business. This is where our paths diverge, and we no longer need your guidance, unless you're willing to help us back to High Hrothgar. That is the only thing we'll still ask from you."

Gildarts glanced at Natsu, as if to ask if he was also on board with this, but Natsu did not raise his eyes from the table. Lucy's decision was his decision too – and Gildarts realised this fast enough.

"It's a long way from here to Ivarstead and up to the mountain as well, you know," Gildarts told grimly. "There's a storm coming from the east. It will hit you tomorrow morning – there's no way you'll be able to get through the mountain pass in that blasted snowstorm, not to even mention the Seven Thousand Steps. Are you really up to such a suicidal mission?"

"We will manage," Natsu said. "We've survived worse."

"Arrogance is deadly this time of a year," Gildarts replied. "Look, I do not approve your decision to head back to High Hrothgar, but I know I can't change your minds when it is set in stone. Still, I respect you stubborn brats too much to let you just die out there. There's one way I can help you."

"Well, what is it?" Lucy asked.

"I know a faster way to the monastery."

Natsu and Lucy stared at Gildarts. A sudden memory, coated in pain, came to Lucy's mind. They had once taken a faster way out of the monastery, and she could vaguely remember twisting her ankles on her way down. But there was no way one could go up the same path.

"Impossible. The mountainside is too steep," Natsu said.

"The word impossible is not in my dictionary, lad," Gildarts grinned. "If you follow me and my sorcery, you can reach the monastery before the storm reaches us. I can take you there before I carry on to Sky Haven Temple on my own."

Natsu kept staring at him in disbelief. "Just… what exactly do you mean?"

"The question is, do you trust me?"

Lucy glanced at Natsu. Shadows danced on his weary face – as so often, he didn't seem to have slept at all. There were things Lucy wanted to ask him, but not now, not in the old Blade's presence. Could they even discuss whether to trust him or not? Natsu turned his eyes to her, remaining still, as if he was about to shake his head, but Lucy had already made her decision.

"If we can both reach our goals this way, then I have no reason to doubt you'd hold any malice towards us. The faster we reach the monastery, the better."

Gildarts nodded. "Good. I had hoped to avoid interacting with the Greybeards, just as they hope to avoid a Blade, but I don't think they will mind if I deliver the Dragonborn at their doorstep tonight."

"Tonight?" Natsu wondered. "Just what in Sheogorath's name are you insane old bastard even thinking?"

A slight grin appeared on Gildarts's face. "You should've paid attention to the class, son. How do you think I crossed the Jerall Mountains on my way to Cyrodiil?"

"… by crossing the border, right?"

"Me, just crossing a Thalmor-festered border? No. I climbed the damned mountains," Gildarts said. "And if you both pay attention, I can show you how to wield Alteration as your ice picks and harness."

For a moment, Natsu didn't say anything. Deep in doubt, he seemed to analyze the risk, and calculate if it was worth taking. Even to Lucy, Gildarts's plan sounded rather mad – but once, the spell of Clairvoyance had shown them the way down. With the right equipment, the right guidance, they could take the way up.

"How are you feeling, Lucy? Are you ready to cast spells already? At least you remembered how to heal yourself, so I deem you have not forgotten everything about sorcery…"

"I can," Lucy said. "It might be difficult, but I know I can do it. I have to."

Still reluctant, the fire mage nodded. "This," he sighed, "is the stupidest, most foolish idea ever."

From his words, did a memory surface in her mind. The view spreading far from atop the mountain, sunlight glimmering bright on the snow, fierce wind upon her face – she had said those words once. She had held tight onto his hand as he ran down the slopes, leading her with confidence, insane bravery, and a mischievous grin. How Lucy hoped to see him grin like this again, but now his face was shrouded in a grim veil instead.

"It's not like we're going to die," Lucy said then, smiling slightly. "I promise."

"Yes, I promise this as well," Gildarts answered. "It's best that you both grab something to eat before we go. Say, we meet in a moment in front of the guard barracks? I will get everything ready for then."

Lucy nodded. "See you in a moment. And thank you, for respecting my choice."

"Of course," Gildarts said. "I'm just fulfilling my duty. The Blades serve and protect the Dragonborn, after all. I'm sworn to guard and guide you." Then he sighed, turning towards the door. "And remember, in a moment means in a moment. Don't get too cosy with one another, the daylight hours are scarce this time of year."

"Go to the Void already you fucker," Natsu said, deep red flushing to his otherwise pale cheeks as he shielded his face with his palms. "We'll be there in a moment."

"Good."

Silence fell to the kitchen hall as Gildarts closed the door. His ghostly feet made no sound as he walked up the stairs, his presence withdrawing further as he went. Though Natsu seemed mortified about the old Blade's little comment, Lucy just chuckled at it.

"Well, did we have anything to eat here?" she asked then, rising from the table to examine the kitchen cabinets. "For some reason, I'm really craving some eidar cheese with snowberry jam."

Natsu sighed, wiping his hands down his face as he turned his eyes to her. A small, timid smile rose on his lips when Lucy tried to open a jar she'd found.

"You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that," he said quietly.

Though Lucy could not fully understand, or remember, why exactly hearing this made him happy, she answered his smile. Natsu watched her struggle with the jar for a while, then chuckled as he went to open it for her. Silence fell between them then, and though they both knew they had so much to say, so much to share, neither of them did. Finally, it felt like things were looking up, a calm descending after a storm – from here, healing could come.

And now, the silence was just enough.

A/N: Hi guys! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I'm glad I was finally able to update!

First off, though this chapter was pretty short compared to other chapter, this also serves as a major turning point and change in the story. Lucy sort of had to sink to the bottom and collapse so that she could reform into her full heroic destiny, and that's exactly what she's going through here. Gildarts did quite nasty to them with stealing the Horn to begin with, but this massive reroute in the other hand has helped Lucy to bloom into her role as a Dragonborn. It is, kinda, what the Greybeards called her "Final Trial" - had she gone straight back to High Hrotghar from Ustengrav, she would have not gained Milmurnir's soul and all the other things that happened. It's been all part of the plan. This chapter was also sort of a "Namesake" chapter of the entire story due to Layla's influence and the reveal about Lucy's bloodline. There are still more mysteries to that though :D

And on a personal sidenote, I will probably have more time for writing in the nearby future. I'm graduating this month (yay!) and my job ends next month (nay! back to being broke af again!) so as these two huge time-consumers called school and work are over for a while, I can spend that time with my creative hobbies ^^ Stay on board ya'll, I'm very excited as the third and final story arc of this story starts really soon!