Disclaimer: I do not own the Elder Scrolls.
The Last Fight
"Talking"
"Thinking"
It was the wind Bjorn first felt stepping out of the portal. It had a slight chill that only appeared in the morning, the kind that woke a man up as the sun shined down. But there was no sun, only the twisting lights of the borealis, and the stars muffled behind them. He also smelled something on the wind. It was familiar but distantly, a memory he once had. He sniffed again. It was…honey and roses?
"Whoa," said the Kid, standing behind him. "This is Sovngarde?"
"So it would seem." The steps downwards led into a forest, just like any forest road he had seen since he started wandering Skyrim. But there was a mist in the distance, one that didn't seem natural. The Kid started looking around. He was antsy. But for what? "What's the matter, Kid?"
"I…I don't know." His uncertainty was mixed with fear. "I feel like something will happen, but I don't know what." When he looked at Bjorn, it was with hope. "Maybe I'll find it?"
Bjorn didn't have an answer for him. He never did. He first met the Kid at that damn ambush. In fact, the Kid was responsible for getting them both of them captured and mistaken for Stormcloaks. Bjorn would've been happy to be rid of him when Alduin attacked Helgen, but the Kid followed in his escape. Thus began their journey through Skyrim.
And in doing so, he found himself becoming fond of the Kid. And yet, he was a mystery. He looked to be a youth, perhaps thirteen or fourteen years old, yet he wasn't sure how old he was. His skin was white and his hair blonde. Those were the only constants about him. One day, he could look like a Nord, only the next to resemble a Breton or an Imperial. He didn't know if he ever had a home or a family. What he did know was he was looking for something. What it was, even that escaped him.
Well, whatever it was, it didn't matter now. They were after Alduin. They were here to end him. But they were going to need aid. "Let's get moving."
Statues of cloaked men watched as they descended the steps. There were no eyes underneath the hoods. Bjorn would've felt better if there were eyes. It would've given him the sense they were watching over him. As they reached the mist, Bjorn knew it was not natural. It was too thick, too obscuring. Someone could walk through and get lost.
It had to be a trap. Good thing he had a way to beat it. His Thu'um was unleashed against the mist and it faded into nothingness. There was a roar off in the distance, indignant in its fury. A shadow moved against the stars. Alduin was not please. Good.
The further they went, the more Bjorn realized how much of a trap it was. Each soul they found had been lost in the mist, unsure of where to go. Whenever they heard a roar, they gazed up in fear, as if they would be taken by Alduin. The Kid was hardly any better. A confused look stayed on his face as they walked. Each time he heard that roar, he froze and the confusion grew.
Bjorn's hope rose when he saw a building getting closer. It was the only building he had seen here. It could only mean it was the Hall of Valor, Shor's Hall. "This is it," he told the Kid. "We're almost there." The Kid only nodded, still confused about something.
The closer they got to the Hall, the clearer it became. The only way to reach it was via a bridge. The bridge itself was something incredible. Made from the skeleton of animal, it was massive. Bjorn had no idea what kind of creature it had been in life, but four men could walk across it with no worry about falling off.
A man stood in their way. It was clear to Bjorn this was a Nord's Nord. He stood tall, taller than either Bjorn or the Kid. An equally tall battle axe was strapped to his back. He wore no armor above his waist, proudly exposing his chest to any opponent, while a torc rested around his neck. His loincloth was protected with plateskirts and held together by a massive belt.
"What brings you, wayfarer grim, to wander here, in Sovngarde, souls-end, Shor's gift to honored dead?" the man asked, looking down at Bjorn. His eyes held a quiet intensity as they waited.
There were times when Bjorn's curiosity couldn't help but reach out. He knew they had to get into the Hall but the man before him seemed intriguing. "Who are you?" he asked.
"I am Tsun, shield-thane to Shor. The Whalebone Bridge he bade me guard and winnow all those souls whose heroic end sent them here, to Shor's lofty hall where welcome, well earned, awaits those I judge fit to join that fellowship of honor."
Well, that was his curiosity sated. Giddiness took its place.
Tsun. Bjorn's father had told him tales of the gods when he had been a child. Tsun had been amongst them, alongside his brother Stuhn.
And now he was standing before him.
A roar in the distance brought Bjorn back to his senses. He breathed deep and spoke with conviction. "I need to reach the Hall of Valor."
Those eyes never wavered. "No shade are you, as usually here passes, but living, you dare the land of the dead," he remarked. "By what right do you request entry?"
Any number of answers could've worked, but there was only one he felt was necessary now. "By right of birth," he replied. "I am the Dragonborn."
A small smile quirked at Tsun's lips. "Ah! It's been too long since last I faced a doom-driven hero of the dragon blood."
Bjorn didn't like those words but how could he argue against Tsun, of all people? "Can I enter the Hall of Valor?"
The smile faded and the intensity grew. "Living or dead, by decree of Shor, none may pass this perilous bridge 'till I judge them worthy by the warrior's test."
He knew what that meant. "Kid, get ready." They had a fight on their hands.
Tsun's axe swept free and pointed at Bjorn. "You, I will fight, Dragonborn. Your companion, I will not."
The Kid's hand froze with his knife halfway free. "What?" he asked, confused. "Why not?" Tsun wouldn't look at him. "Hey! I asked you why not."
"…Abomination."
The Kid flinched and withered on the spot. Bjorn was angry. Again and again, he had heard that word directed at the Kid, whether it was by dragons or the Daedra. It could've been said with disgust or disregard. Even the Daedric Prince of Madness called him such. The Greybeards barred him from High Hrothgar, citing that word as reason enough.
And now, this god had called him the same word, without even bothering to know him. "You will take that word back," Bjorn said, drawing his sword and his axe.
Tsun shook his head. "I cannot unsay that which is true. Without the crimes he's caused or the glory he helped create, abomination is what he is and has been."
"Enough!" Bjorn roared, fury pushing everything aside. He rushed forward, axe high and sword low.
The Kid knew how it would go. Bjorn would win, like he always did. He didn't need him to win a fight. But being called that word, it hurt him. And he didn't know why.
Once Bjorn won the fight crossed the bridge, the Kid was left alone with Tsun. Silence lasted only so long as they didn't hear a dragon roar. Tsun didn't look his way. To the god, he might as well not exist.
He hated it that. And he wasn't going to let it stand. "Hey," he said. The god didn't look his way. "Hey! Look at me when I'm talking to you!" He didn't. So the Kid marched up and stared up at him. "Tell me why," he demanded. "Tell me what did I do to deserve that word?"
Tsun was silent. Never once did he take his eyes off Sovngarde. The Kid was frustrated, upset, and angry. It boiled into a confusion mesh that wanted out. "TELL ME!" he screamed. The words shot skywards, filling Sovngarde with its demand. "WHAT DID I DO? I DON'T KNOW! TELL ME!"
When he stopped, he was left gasping for air. Why did he feel like that took a lot out of him. "…You exist," Tsun answered in a quiet voice. "That is reason enough."
That was it?
That was all he would say?
How was the Kid existing a crime? He had no say in the matter. He had simply started living! It was at…at…
The Kid didn't know where he was born. Nor did he know when. All he remembered was wandering, searching for…something. He had memories but they didn't make sense. He remembered giving bread to a girl called Alessia. But it couldn't have been St. Alessia. She had lived during the First Era. He hadn't lived that long.
Had he?
Another roar shook Sovngarde. It echoed through the Kid's ears, into his soul. He shuddered with fear. But something else grew as well. A sense of recognition. He felt as if he knew Alduin, and not just as a distant enemy. He knew him well. But why?
His legs started moving, taking him towards the mist. He couldn't stop himself. That sense pushed him forward, towards Alduin.
The Kid had practically vanished into the mist when Bjorn returned from the Hall, accompanied by Felldir the Old, Hakon One-Eyed, and Gormlaith Golden-Hilt. "Kid!" he shouted, rushing off the bridge. The mist engulfed the Kid before he could reach him.
"The mist!" Felldir commanded. "We must clear the mist!"
Together, their Thu'um banished the mist from the valley. The Kid was close-by, close enough for Bjorn to grab him by the shoulder. "You okay?" The Kid nodded. It allowed his relief to turn into anger. "What were you thinking? You could've gotten lost in there!"
"I…I…something's happening, Bjorn." His eyes looked everywhere they could. "Alduin, I need to see Alduin."
"Why?" The Kid had never seen Alduin before. Whenever the black dragon had appeared, the Kid was never close enough to see him.
"I don't know!" He was confused, scared, and desperate. "I want to see him, but I also want to hide! Why do I feel like this, Bjorn? Why!?"
"Ven Mul Riik!" roared a deep voice. Sovngarde shuddered as the mist rolled back in. It was Alduin. He was trying to regain control.
Again, the four of them cleared the mist away and again, Alduin's Thu'um brought it back. The mist looked as strong as ever. "Does his strength have no end?" Hakon demanded, searching for the dragon. "Is our struggle in vain?"
Gromlaith had no such doubts. "Stand fast! His strength is failing!" she proclaimed. "Once more, and his might will be broken!"
"His power crumbles," Felldir said, "do not pause for breath!"
Together they breathed deep and unleashed their Thu'um. The mist recoiled against the power, fading into nothingness. And this time, it did not return. If it was supposed to be the World-Eater's shield, it was gone.
An outrage roar echoed throughout Sovngarde. Alduin flew overhead, angry and ready to kill. "The Worm comes!" Felldir proclaimed, drawing his great sword.
And Bjorn was ready. "Kid, get behind me!" He waited until Alduin came close, jaw agape and ready to speak. He spoke first. "Joor Zah Frul!"
The Thu'um struck the World-Eater dead on. For a moment, he froze. Then his wings faltered, and he fell towards the earth. He recovered enough to land and faced his enemies. The hate in his eyes blazed with a hellish orange glow.
Bjorn slowed for a moment. This was the first time he had been close to Alduin. He seemed bigger than other dragons. The black scales made him seem darker than night. The spikes and ridged curves gave him a frightening aspect, to terrorize his enemies into hesitance. His wings had claws that could tear flesh as quick or as slow as he liked. The spikes on the tail looked sharp, sharp enough to break through any shield.
"You dare?" Alduin roared at the Dovahkiin. "You may have picked up the weapons of my ancient foes, but you are not their equal!"
The contempt shook Bjorn from his stupor and roused his fury. "You blind, Worm? Do you think I stand alone? Your foes are here with me!" His weapons rose, ready for the kill. The ancient Tongues did the same.
But before anything could happen, the Kid slipped around him and approached the dragon. "Child, what are you doing?" Felldir cried.
The Kid didn't hear him. His focus was only on Alduin. "I know you," he said in a voice confused but slowly understanding. "You…you were there, weren't you? You were there." It was an accusation half-shrouded in doubt.
Alduin looked at him for a long moment before recognition bled through the hatred. "So, you've come." The Kid winced at the voice. "You did not learn your lesson before."
Bjorn was surprised. The dragon knew the Kid? "You did something to me," the Kid said, half to himself. "What did…what was…? No…I know. I remember." His voice lost the confusion. "You took it. You stole it!" This time, there was no doubt in his accusation.
Something changed in the Kid at those words. He lost his fear, his uncertainty. In their place was indignancy and anger. If the World-Eater noticed the change, he showed nothing. "What of it?" he asked with an insulting disinterest.
"Give it back."
He laughed at that (as much as dragons could laugh). "Begone, draal." He spun, quicker than he should've, slapping the Kid with his tail.
He flew across the valley, farther he should've, and struck the ground hard, bouncing twice before he came to a stop. His body didn't move. "KID!" Bjorn cried, fearing he was dead. He looked at Alduin with newfound hatred and fury. "You die today, Worm!" At that, the four attacked the dragon with war-cries and steel.
It was a battle that could inspire a thousand bards with songs. Alduin had called himself the Firstborn of Akatosh and he showed his worth. His command of the Thu'um was strong. With a single shout, meteors rained down from the sky, forcing his attackers to tread lightly. If flame did not work, he could just as easily breath ice upon them. His wings swept out, forcing them back lest they be caught and sent to the ground. His tail was as deadly as they feared, tearing out chunks of the earth whenever it missed one of them.
A lessor person would've frozen in fear at such an enemy before running away for his life.
But Bjorn had gone through too much, fought too long, to be quailed by such things. There was a weakness to Alduin. They just needed to keep pressing the attacks. His sword and axe struck the scales, cutting through them until they found flesh. Gromlaith struck the legs, cutting so she could find muscles. Hakon dueled with the wings while Felldir fought Alduin head-on, swinging his sword at the dragon's face.
Together, they hemmed Alduin in and hammered away. They matched him, blade for claw and Thu'um for Thu'um. If he tried to take off, Bjorn was there, ready with the Dragonrend Shout to bring him back down. He would not escape so easily.
The longer they fought, the more time lost meaning for them. All that mattered was Alduin's death. That was drove them. Bjorn struck the dragon's side and black blood gushed out, striking him in the eyes. He stumbled back, reaching to wipe the blood away.
"You alright, warrior?" Felldir asked, glancing his way.
"I'm fine! He can blee—!"
The world became clear just as he was struck in the side. He flew through the air for a moment and struck the ground hard. His axe fell out of his grasp and his body hurt everywhere. It took him longer than it should've to get back up. When he did, he saw the Tongues had fallen just as well. But they weren't out of this yet!
He surged upwards, bringing his sword to bare, when Alduin shouted his Thu'um. This wasn't a Thu'um he had heard before, it sounded different, wrong, and unintelligible to his ears. But it forced him to his knees and kept him there. He had no strength to stand and neither did the others.
Alduin loomed over them, triumphant. "Is that all you have, draal?" he demanded. "Is that all you have? Sahlo! I am Alduin! Who are you to challenge me!?"
"fus…"
It was a weak Thu'um, barely strong enough to move a cup. Alduin barely noticed it, if for only one thing.
None of the four on their knees said it.
The Kid was back on his feet. And he was walking towards the World-Eater. Bjorn was shocked. So was Alduin. "You—!"
"Fus."
This Thu'um was stronger, pushing Alduin back an inch. "Give it back," the Kid demanded. His face was tightened into a scowl.
"Sah—!"
"Fus!"
The Thu'um made him stumble. "Give it back," the Kid repeated his demand.
Alduin surged forward. His mouth opened, ready to roar.
"Fus Ro!"
He was slammed into the ground. Bjorn's surprise grew. One Word of Power was something, but two? He didn't think the Kid could do that.
Alduin pulled himself to his full height, forcing himself through the Thu'um. The Kid stared him down, a few feet away. "Give it back!" he said for the third time.
"Nahlot! You do not command me, draal!"
"Fus RO!"
The World-Eater slammed into the ground again. The Kid crossed those last few steps and grabbed him by the chin. It shouldn't have matter. But that small hand held the dragon in place. Alduin was enraged. "You—!"
"FUS! RO! DAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!"
The Thu'um forced Alduin down into the ground. It pounded relentlessly against him, hammering again and again so he could not rise. The Kid didn't relent in his shouting. The black scales buckled. Then they cracked.
It was like a snake shedding its skin, if it was aided by explosions and a strong wind. The ridges and spikes blew away while the claws broke and then shattered. The tail lost its deadliness. What terrifying regality Alduin had was gone. Now, he looked like any other dragon, lesser even.
And yet, the Thu'um continued.
At some point, the Kid's shouting transformed, into a roar. A dragon's roar. And in that roar, Bjorn could hear more. Rage. Fear. Pleading. Horror. Pain. And above all, a question:
How could you?
The roar filled the valley with its sound, reaching up to the mountains and back up the steps. It reached the portal and blasted through, traveling back to the mortal world. It echoed throughout the land, shaking the snow from trees and causing stones to rattle, whether they be part of a road or resting on mountains. The waters in streams, rivers, and the ocean recoiled at the roar, pulling away from its intensity. It stretched out past the borders and through the rest of the kingdoms. It seemed to be unending, reaching for everything and anything.
Yet it was more than the land that heard it. Animals and monsters, both predator and prey, fled from the roar. Men and Mer paused, looking towards the sky, fearful of what the roar might belong to, yet wondering who was in so much pain. Even though their curiosity was aroused, no one, not even their bravest, cleverest, or sneakiest, dared to find out.
As for the Dov…
They knew who that roar belonged to. Throughout the land, whether they were flying or perched in their lairs, they turned towards the roar's origin. A memory long-wished to be forgotten stirred. And they knew what would come next.
The roar reached until it could reach no further, holding everything underneath its power. And then, it stopped, disappearing into nothingness. In its wake, was nothing.
Skuldafn was silent.
Skyrim was silent.
Tamriel was silent.
Nirn was silent.
Mundus was silent.
Then the silence was broken, by one voice.
"YOU GIVE ME BACK MY NAME!"
"Nahlot, draal!" Alduin shouted, finding his strength. He pulled himself free from the grip and swiped at the Kid, forcing him back.
But his focus on the Kid broke his concentration. Bjorn found the strength to rise, his sword still in hand. He saw an opportunity and took it, rushing forward and jumping onto Alduin's neck, just behind his head. His sword rose up, tip pointing downwards.
Alduin realized what he was doing. He tried to shake him off, but his grip was too strong and the dragon was too weak. "Zu'u unslaad!" he shouted for anyone to hear. "Zu'u nis oblaan!"
The sword struck home, sinking into the dragon's flesh. "I told you," Bjorn said into his ear. "You die today, Worm."
The World-Eater screamed as the sword pulled free, mingling with the Kid's screaming "NO!"
The world didn't matter to the Kid, not as the old heroes praised Bjorn nor when they were returned to Skyrim by Tsun, landing on the Throat of the World, surrounded by dragons. He didn't care as they chanted mournfully for Alduin or Bjorn being awestruck. All he could do was rock himself back-and-forth, weeping at what happened.
When the dragons finished their chant and Paarthurnax was done with Bjorn, only then he did notice the Kid. "What's wrong?" he asked, unsure of why he was crying.
He looked up at the Dragonborn through teary eyes. "Do you know what you've done?" he demanded.
"We defeated Alduin."
"You could've waited! I didn't have the chance! Now I'll never know!"
Bjorn did not know what to make of that anguished cry. The dragons were still there, watching. "Alduin is gone, Kid. The world is safe."
He surged to his feet, grabbing him by his armor. "But what was my name!?" he demanded with a sob.
Bjorn had no answer. He had been so swept away by the fact he killed Alduin, ending his threat, and the praise others gave him, he had forgotten the one thing the Kid demanded from the World-Eater.
His name.
Only now did he realize that he had never called the Kid anything but the Kid. It had escaped his notice. It had been what the Kid was searching for, and Bjorn had never noticed it had been such a simple thing.
"I'm sorry." Even as he said the words, they felt so little. The dragons were still looking down at them, at the Kid. A small hope grew at that. "Paarthurnax, do you know him?"
"Once," the dragon answered. "Ful lingrah vod. He was once a dov. As Alduin claimed to be the eldest, he was goraan, the youngest. He among us saw the joor as fahdon, friends. He stood against Alduin's desire to rule, stood for the joor. Alduin would not have such defiance and struck him down where all dov could see. And to ensure such a thing would not happen, he committed a terrible crime."
Bjorn was afraid to ask but he still had to. "What did he do?"
"He tore out the dov's name from his sil and destroyed it. He tossed the sil away and took the kopraan as his own, wearing it as qah, as armor."
The Kid looked up at the dragon. "I remember you. You were there. You watched." He had watched from the second-highest place of honor.
"Geh, much to my paak. That was the sul when some of us began to turn against Alduin."
"Then you know what it was." He spun around as quick as he could, looking at all the dragons. "If you were all there, you remember what my name was. Please, tell me." The dragons were silent. The hopeful look the Kid wore began to wither. "What was it? Tell me."
One dragon raised his wings and took flight. Others followed and the Kid watched with a desperate hope. "What was my name? Please tell me my name!" he begged. "Please! Tell me!"
"We cannot," Paarthurnax answered in a soft voice. "It is vod."
Bjorn looked to the eldest dragon, ready to berate him for dashing the Kid's hope. But then he noticed something that killed his rage: Paarthurnax couldn't look the Kid in the eye. None of the dragons could.
He remembered every time such a thing happened. Whenever a deity met the Kid, they couldn't look him in the eye and named him an abomination. Only now did Bjorn realized they didn't do it out of disgust.
It was shame.
They were ashamed, ashamed of the fact a terrible crime had happened to the Kid and there was nothing they could've done to stop it. They named him abomination not because of what he was, but because of what Alduin did to him.
The Kid watched as the dragons took flight. There was nothing he could do to stop them. "Please," he begged, falling to his knees. "Don't go. Don't leave me behind." Tears fell freely as he watched them. "What was my name? Please tell me. Don't go. Don't abandon me…please…" His voice choked with tears as they turned.
"Enough."
Everything stopped at that word.
The wind froze. The cloud stilled. The swirling snow halted. Nothing moved.
A third person stood on the Throat. He stood tall, as tall as Tsun. His frame was covered in a cloak one would see on a traveler. The hood hid everything, save for the hint of a chin. Not even the eyes could be seen.
Bjorn didn't know how he appeared, which could only mean he was a deity of some kind. His hand reached for his sword. Yet, there was a strange feeling in his heart, like he should know who this man was.
Paarthurnax stared with wide eyes before bowing his head. "Bormah."
Bormah. The Dovah word for father. And there was only one deity the dragons called that.
The man reached up and pushed the hood back. Akatosh, Dragon God of Time, looked upon Bjorn. Like Tsun, he looked to be the epitome of a Nord. But his eyes were draconic. "A Nord you may be, but your soul is dovah," he proclaimed. "Would you bare steel against your father?"
Bjorn released his grip and bowed his head. "Forgive me."
"You only acted in defense, as you should've." He glanced towards the sky. "Return, my sons. This is enough." Not one dragon flew away. Instead, they hovered around the Throat, waiting.
The Kid looked at Akatosh as he approached. With a gentle hand, he was guided back to his feet. "Can you tell me my name?" he all but begged.
The god shook his head, his iron-grey hair swaying through the air. "No, that name is gone. What Alduin did to you was horrible, but it is forever." Tears welled in his eyes. Akatosh wiped them away. "But that does not mean a new name cannot be given."
A new name? The Kid had tried, so many times. But each name never seemed right. "How? I don't have a name."
"Yes, you do. You've shown it every time you helped those you've considered your friends. All it needs is a little push." He looked down at the Kid, right in his eyes. "Do you want this, my son?"
The Kid nodded, half afraid to speak. Only one word escaped his lips. "Please."
Akatosh leaned down and kissed his forehead, as a parent might do to show their love and pride. "Then take flight again, Silkaaljul." And time started once more.
The dragons chanted the name, breathing life into it with each repetition. A light grew in the Kid, brightening with each passing second. The Kid looked at the light, then at Bjorn with a wide smile. He raced to the Throat's edge and, without any thought, leapt.
Bjorn stared at the spot where the Kid had been. He couldn't believe that had just happened. The Kid had just thrown himself off the Throat!
A roar rippled through the air, overriding the chanting. A dragon flew up from below, right through the gathered dragons. It flew around the Throat, roaring in joy and delight. His scales glistened in the faint sunlight, almost making him glow. The dragons roared in response and joined, even Paarthurnax. They followed and raced the new dragon, acting as if they were children playing in the yard.
And all the while, the Dragonborn watched from the Throat. His eyes never left the new dragon. He watched with a happy smile because that was his friend, the Kid.
No. That was his friend, Silkaaljul.
End
Author's note: Thank you for all the reviews you've sent me.
This story is what happens when I leave an idea in my head for years and it morphs over time. It started when I thought about wanting to see Unrelenting Force from the Skyrim trailer in the game itself and Natsu's fight against Cobra from Fairy Tail, specifically his roar that ruptured Cobra's ears. The two came together and I thought the perfect place for that to happen was the final fight against Alduin. The story grew from that.
As for the Kid, you can pretty much blame him for the start of each game. For instance, in Oblivion he gave the Mythic Dawn the idea on how to break the barriers between the worlds and is also responsible for getting the Hero of Kvatch imprisoned. Of course, that's not all he's done. If there was a major turning point in Tamriel, odds are he was involved somehow. Yet because he lived so long, and due to the damages Alduin gave him, his memory is a bit hazy.
Abomination is not a word that should be used lightly. When people do use it, they typically say it with disgust. Sometimes it's with pity. But the end result is the same: they can't look said abomination in the eye. That'll get to anyone, especially if they have to deal with it for years. And they would want a reason to why they were called such a thing. If such a thing were to happen, I believe the worst reason is simply because they exist. That isn't their fault. It's the fault of whoever created them.
Bjorn is a Nord, if that wasn't already a given. But he's not the typical Nord. When I wrote Bjorn, I imagined him as being thrown into the whole adventure by accident. He had been in the Imperial City, learning about the theatre, when he got news about his family's death. So, he had to return in order to sort things out. Then he got caught in that ambush and things went from there. So, at the start of things, he doesn't really have an idea what he's doing and constantly feels out of his depth, like anyone would in that situation. I keep thinking that his first battle cry is "I was a drama student, damn it!"
Since we've never seen the Divines in the games, it gives us a little leeway on how we portray them. Yes, I could've written Akatosh as this big golden dragon, but he would've been one more dragon amongst others. Showing him as a human made him stand out a little more, especially when it's his eyes that reveal who he really is.
I'll see you all next chapter!
