-This chapter in particular I'm really excited for, as it shows some ideas I had in mind for the precise training the Greybeards would have for Siffre. Of course I didn't want the whole thing to be a simple rehash of one first meeting them and just recounting what they do in game. Plus there's the fact that the Dragonborn was not alone in this instance when first arriving...
Anyway, getting off-topic here; enjoy this chapter!-
The massive door closed with a thud, and the howling wind was cut short as well. No more could the ice wind bite at their tender flesh, plus being actually indoors would help in warding off lingering cold. It was good in itself to have finally arrived here. As to where...?
Leading the shallow breathing Lydia along, Siffre walked forward through a narrow entry hall. It was completely darkened, save for a small torch that hardly illuminated anything with what little light it could produce.
The two made their way out of this entryway and into a large chamber. With the exception for a few burning braziers positioned at different corners of the room as well as light pouring in from thin, transparent tiles on the ceiling above, the room itself felt... unnaturally darkened. Something about this darkness was not sitting right with Siffre, thus she felt herself thankful it was offset by the light from these braziers. How was anyone to see where they were going in this place?
On that note, Siffre looked all around, but didn't see anyone else in her immediate sight. This was the home of these Greybeards, wasn't it? So where were they? Didn't they hear the sound of that massive door open and close? Someone had to be here, her housecarl in her supported grip was in need of treatment! Her mouth twitched open and she caught herself in last minute hesitation. Her usual reservations involved in her speech inability briefly took over in that moment.
But Siffre shook her head; this was no time to be reserved- Lydia needed help, and she had to do her part to make sure she would be alright! A quick exhale of breath, and Siffre tried again.
"Um... hello?" she softly tried to call out. The air before her vibrated softly as well, "Is-Is anyone here?" Looking all around, there were still no Greybeards to be seen. Listening in she also couldn't hear any footsteps either.
"H-Hello?!" Siffre raised her voice a little, and the air before her vibrated harder, "Are the Greybeards here...?" The vibrations subsided, and suddenly she could hear it. The sound of footsteps... multiple ones, from... all around? She looked all around her, anxiety gripping her, causing her to grip Lydia's hand over her shoulder in return.
There lay three sets of stairs leading to three different rooms away from this one; single ones to the side rooms, and two leading to the one directly in front of her. Suddenly, all at once, four shadowed figures appeared at the top of each set of stairs and began to descend them. Siffre's eyes darted back and forth between each one. As nothing more than silhouettes, each one looked identical to the other- a robed, hooded man with a beard.
As they stepped into the more illuminated parts of this room, all four could be seen in much clearer detail. Their robes were shaded the same color as their beards, but each beard was styled differently. On of the beards was single-braided, while another's was bushy and unkempt. Strange as it was to think, how different each beard looked from the other might be the only way Siffre could tell each one apart, since they all were hooded to conceal the rest of their heads. Every other part of their bodies looked identical to their peers; practically clones.
The four hooded men stood just on the edge of the illumination, looking inward at the two women. Unlike Siffre's face who was no doubt holding concern and worry for the woman she was supporting, these mens' faces remained neutral and calm. Siffre's eyes began to narrow with confusion; she was standing here supporting an injured Lydia, and they were simply standing there, looking at them?
"Um..." she spoke softly again, "Hello?" None of the four men responded to her, but gave the most subtle of nods to her, "Er... please... Lydia..." a subtle gesture of her own to her housecarl, "Injured! Can you help...?" None of the four men moved immediately. In fact, they seemed to study Siffre and Lydia even more after hearing her plea. At least, that was what Siffre was interpreting from reading their faces. Why weren't they immediately doing anything?
Then, one of the Greybeards turned to two of his fellows, they turning to face him in turn. A single nod, a gesture of his hand, and they moved forward towards Siffre. She tensed from this unexpected movement, carefully watching them for the slightest hint of ill they might mean to her or Lydia. However, they moved closer to her so calmly, hardly rushing in fact. Even as they moved closer for their faces to be seen clearer, they still didn't appear to betray any emotion. A simple unspoken command being carried out, nothing more.
They now stood before Siffre and offered their own arms out, their intentions now clear. Siffre looked back and forth between them and her barely conscious housecarl. Reluctantly, she passed her to them. Lydia herself let out a light moan from the changing of carriers. At least now she was being supported by two people under both of her arms as opposed to before.
Turning around the two Greybeards slowly moved Lydia towards the left side stairs, the third Greybeard right behind them. Taking this as a cue, Siffre herself moved to follow them as well. However, that same Greybeard held his hand out, halting her from following. Her eyes narrowed in confusion and concern and her mouth started to open to protest. But the man simply shook his head softly. It wasn't a harsh deterrent, and his facial expressions were gentle. In that moment, there was understanding without a single word being exchanged.
Siffre may not have liked it, but she still understood.
With that she stayed behind as the three men escorted her housecarl up the stairs and through to the next room. Once they were out of sight, Siffre could feel the tension within her fading away. Or was it only returning stronger? It seemed like they had understood what she'd wanted- for Lydia to be treated somehow. But... shouldn't she be there for her as well? Wasn't there anything more she could do? In fact, she was bordering on unconscious moments ago; would she need to be there when she came to?
In the midst of her mental pondering, Siffre had almost not noticed the fourth Greybeard still remaining. He stood within the light of this room, and thus detail of his beard could be seen clearer. In comparison to the others, this one's beard reached so low that it was about the exact length of his face. It was by far the longest beard out of the four that Siffre had seen among them. He stood with his hands held in front of him, and his face was completely neutral; void of emotion. His eyes studied the woman, even as hers regarded him with uncertainty.
"Will she... will they help her...?" Siffre's voice lowered again, and yet the tiniest of vibrations could be felt in spite of her volume. The man did not reply verbally, but he still did nod his head once with closed eyes. Normally a nod would be a clear answer, but the way this man responded exactly left Siffre confused.
Before she could press any inquiry, the man motioned for her to follow him. He advanced towards the center of this chamber, Siffre slowly following behind him. He stopped in place as he stood on the edge of the overhead light's reach, Siffre doing the same at the edge opposite him. Slowly he dropped himself down to sit on his bent knees and legs. Looking up at Siffre, he motioned at the floor beneath her that she do the same.
"Er..." Siffre watched how the man had situated himself, and was now wanting her to do the same. Wouldn't it hurt to sit on your legs like that? Nonetheless, she slowly brought herself down to the same kneeling position the man was in.
She was right- this was not feeling good for her legs...
Tearing herself away from her discomfort, she looked back up at the Greybeard. He was looking back at her. This time, while his eyes held that same studious gaze in them, the corners of his mouth had curved up ever so slightly. Moments of complete silence passed between them.
"So... you are... a Greybeard?" Siffre finally asked. Her speech was silent this time, not wanting to risk any vibrations slip through in her voice. The man again did not respond in any verbal way. Instead, in a single motion, he bowed his head in a single nod, his eyes closing and reopening. And then, his mouth suddenly opened,
"Einarth..." The familiar sensation of vibrations rumbled throughout this building. Not only that, but Siffre felt her entire being shake as well. Her eyes widened and this discovery and revelation. She knew this feeling from personal experience! Someone who's own voice caused heavy vibrations, much like hers?! Incredible! In one single moment, she no longer felt alone to such a degree.
"You..." she breathed, "Your voice... it's like mine." Excitement had unintentionally crept into her statement, and the air in front of her definitely vibrated. The man, Einarth, nodded a clear nod this time, as if these same unseen forces leveled straight at him were completely unnoticed. He gestured to himself and spoke softly again,
"Einarth, in do fin Thu'um." The man was barely speaking above a whisper, yet these vibrations continued to cause a persistent rumble all throughout the building. Siffre glanced all around her every once in a while. How had this power not caused this entire building to collapse from it? Or was this building itself more stable and well-made than she'd expected, even after all these years?
Perhaps it had to be, if it was home to such powerful voices that this man, as well as his compatriots, held and expressed.
Despite not understanding a word he just spoke, she could hear the word Thu'um be mentioned. Feeling suddenly more emboldened, Siffre pointed a finger to herself and spoke,
"Siffre." She'd purposely raised her tone to match what she thought this man was speaking at. As expected, vibrations left her mouth, if a little differently. Whereas Einarth's very voice caused the entire building to rumble, her's only caused vibrations in the general direction of where she faced.
As before, Einarth nodded, gestured to himself, and spoke again,
"Wuth ahrk onik, Sadonvum." Unlike before, Siffre didn't identify anything in what the man had just said. That combined with how the rumbling around her felt loud than usual also made it difficult to understand. Her eyes narrowed in confusion, until Einarth gestured to her herself and spoke again, "Dovahkiin."
Siffre's eyes widened in surprise this time. There was that word again, 'dovahkiin'. And now the very man, or at least one of the men, who had summoned her via that word itself, was now referring to her as such! This feeling was a very humbling one! So much so that Siffre was barely aware of the word escaping her mouth in response, "Dovahkiin".
Her hands shot to her mouth, flustered. Her face flushed not simply because of how randomly she'd uttered that word, but because of how she'd spoken it. Softly and normal volumes blended together, with different vibration forces accompanying it. She almost couldn't look back in Einarth's eyes, lest the embarrassment be too much for her.
Thankfully, the Greybeard simply smiled. He smiled a kind of smile not from pleasure at another's expense, but a sort of understanding smile. How a parent smiles at their child despite knowing of a flaw they've committed. With a hand, he gestured to Siffre and whispered,
"Dovahkiin."
This time, unlike before, there were no deep rumbles throughout the building. The man had whispered the word and not allowed his own voice to be raised higher than that. He gestured to Siffre again, as if to tell her to repeat his action.
She recomposed herself, and whispered, "Dovahkiin." Like him, no vibrations exited her mouth. Einarth nodded, approving of this action.
"Dovahkiin..." He spoke again, this time halfway through the word slowly and deliberately raising his personal voice to just barely above whispering. At first no rumbling vibrations were then followed by steadily growing vibrations coinciding with his volume change. This was a detail Siffre noted, and quickly picked up on that he wanted her to repeat his action.
"Dovahkiin..." She spoke the word, trying her best to raise her voice accordingly to what was instructed. The non-vibrating whisper was followed by slowly growing vibrations from her mouth. For the most part her vocal change matched Einarth's, if a little more sharper than his. However Einarth appeared to approve of her attempt, as shown by his single nod.
"Dov-AAAHHH-KIIiinnn..." Einarth's next vocal instruction was incredibly varied. He started off at speaking volume, then reaching mid-word his volume quickly shifted up to loud, and finally descending his volume to finish the word. The accompanying rumbling vibrations almost shook Siffre off of her kneeling legs. The deepness of the vibrations reached through her ears, and her sense of balance was almost thrown off. She found herself holding her arms out in a futile attempt to re-balance herself.
Finally the rumbling ceased, and everything was calm again, at least in Siffre's eyes and ears. A moment of reorienting herself, and she had snapped back to reality; Einarth was gesturing to her, albeit patiently. Even after that insane display, he was still asking her to replicate what he'd done! Could she even do that? She had never raised her voice higher to that of shouting before, at least on purpose. Well, these impromptu exercises were something of new experiences for her, and something she hadn't tried before... Here goes...
"Do- DovaaAAAAHHH... AHH-KIIIIiin..." Siffre tried her best to recreate Einarth's precise volume pattern: speaking volume, raised to shouting, then descend to softly again. As she spoke the word according to this man's specifications, she could hear just how different she was making the word sound, not only out loud and out of her body, but within herself as well. It was a heavy rattling she felt within her very core, the higher she tried to raise her voice. It was highly noticeable in comparison to softer tones both before and after it. In front of her she could feel the vibrations exit her throat, and she watched in concern for if they would somehow impact Einarth somehow. Thankfully the man continued to kneel in place, still unfazed by the Voice's effects focused straight upon him.
He watched and listened to her replicate his sound as well. His face still did not betray any other emotion. When she finished, and after allowing a moment for her to regain composure, he gave a shorter nod to her attempt. He gave another gesture of his hand, but this one was different; it appeared he wanted Siffre to try that vocal pattern again.
Siffre's eyes narrowed, but with a sigh, she tried it again. This time she tried to focus on having no breaks and pronouncing the word as singular and unbroken. Clearly there was more to this exercise than met the eye, or rather ear.
Her eyes slowly began to open, yet she was still greeted by the sight of darkness. No, wait... Not complete darkness. There was light; a soft glow of orange yellow light, illuminating the darkness. She didn't know what that light was, but her eyes felt drawn to it, compelled to it even...
Lydia's hazed state slowly broke as she regained her senses. The soft orange glow her eyes had been drawn to was a small candle to her side. It bathed her in a warm ray of light and warmth. But wait; wouldn't heat from a candle feel warmer? Hotter even? She was warm now, but this warmth she was feeling didn't feel like correctly matched. She brought her gaze down to her body and found some cloth covering it entirely. What was this, a blanket? Where did this come from? Where was she?
Her hands slowly began to shift underneath this blanket, while at the same time feeling around at what was underneath this cloth. It was at this moment she made two discoveries: the first was that she was laying upon some soft surface, a bed perhaps? And the second was that she was feeling the cloth of her tunic; her armor was not on her body!
As her mind began to panic, her hands shifted even more until one of them made contact with her side. In that instant, massive jolts of pain shot up her body. She grimaced and groaned, memories suddenly reforming in her mind. That damned frost troll had pounded against her with its arms, probably even broke a rib or two. But then, she remembered walking a little further up those steps, then collapsing into the icy snow, and... everything went fuzzy from there.
So then, where was she now? And how did she get here?
As these questions began to take the forefront of her mind, Lydia became aware of some kind or rumbling through the very walls that surrounded her. Her eyes widened, and she tried to shift herself up to sitting position in her panic. This sound, this vibration! Whatever it was, it felt like it could cause everything to come crashing down upon her! It would've been bad enough being buried before, but now without her armor on her body, she felt even more vulnerable.
"Ah... you are awake."
While still in her alarmed state, Lydia was still caught off guard by that seemingly out of nowhere statement. Not simply just the statement, but also in how it was uttered so nonchalantly. She slowly turned her head to where she was certain its source was.
On the other side of the nightstand with the glowing candle was a chair, with a man sitting in it. This man was wearing a dark gray, almost coal-blackened robe which concealed almost all of his natural body. Only his bare hands and the front of his face were exposed, while a drawn hood kept the rest of his head shrouded. He was looking in her direction, but an open book in his lap suggested he'd been reading moments earlier. He looked at her with calm eyes, which Lydia was drawn to. There wasn't anything necessarily frightening about this man. If anything it seemed as if he'd been just sitting there and her jostling movements had disturbed him.
"Please, try not to move excessively; you still need time to heal properly," the man calmly ordered. Lydia had every right to refuse this order in such strange territory, but his tone held no negative tone to it at all. He sounded genuinely concerned for her well-being.
It was enough that Lydia still calmed her movements, yet still pulled herself back deeper under the covers.
"Um... what is going on?" she cautiously asked, while staring up at the ceiling instead of looking at him, "Where am I?'
"Consider yourself fortunate, child," the man said, "You were brought here in a most troubling state; wounded, and barely conscious." Lydia's one eye glanced over to the man to see he still was calmly looking in her direction, "Had you been brought here mere minutes later... well, it's fortunate that was not the case."
"Wounded...?" Lydia spoke, her hand drifted to her side. It was then that she was reminded that her armor was absent, and her anxiety flared up again, "Wait, where is my armor?"
"To sufficiently treat your injury, all obstructions had to be removed," the man replied, then gestured his hand off to the side. Lydia looked over to where he pointed to find her armor neatly folded on another nearby chair, not far from this bed she lay in. Even from this distance, she could see dents and scratches on the steel plating, ruining its once pristine image. But the fact that her armor was there in the first place drew another thought to her mind, one that made her grow steadily uncomfortable. However, as if somehow already knowing what she was going to say, the man spoke up first, "Rest assured... we were respectful."
The robed man then slowly stood up from his chair and turned in front of the nightstand between them. He reached down and picked up a small cup filled with something and carefully brought it closer to Lydia, "Here, now that you are awake, please drink this..." Lydia looked at the man, but still took the cup in one hand. She brought it closer to her mouth and sniffed its vapors. The aroma was... warm, and savory. It must have been heated recently. Cautiously she took small sips of the cup's contents. The savory smell now bathed her mouth with its flavor, and Lydia quickly downed its contents, letting out a satisfied sigh upon finishing.
"Thank you..." she said, handing the cup back to him, "What was that?"
"It was a simple soup recipe," he replied, placing the coup back on the nightstand, "It is something that we partake in to ward off occasional sickness ourselves..."
"Huh?" Lydia's ears perked up, "'Our'? Is there someone else here?"
"But of course, child," the man said, "I study with my fellow Greybeards, in these hallowed halls of High Hrothgar."
Lydia almost audibly gasped at this realization, her gasp unintentionally coinciding with another bout of deep rumbles through out this building. The building she now was informed was High Hrothgar! THE High Hrothgar! And this very man that she was speaking to, that she had the honor of speaking to? He was a Greybeard?! A master of a Voice so powerful that even a whisper could potentially kill someone?! And yet, here he was before her, caring for her while speaking like a normal person, with a normal-sounding voice!
If Lydia wasn't lying in a bed already, she might have dropped down to her knees.
"Th-The Greybeards..." she stammered, "THE Greybeards! I'm... it's an honor!"
"Your flattery is appreciated, but ultimately unnecessary," the man said, "Contrary to how vanity portrays us, we are and and always will be followers of the Way of the Voice."
"But, well I mean..." Lydia said, slightly put off from the man not exuding the similar level of awe that her mind had conjured up, "We've been trying to get here, to find you!"
"Indeed...?" the man asked. At that moment, before either could say anything further, they were reminded of the deep rumbling vibrations throughout High Hrothgar's walls, with faint voices accompanying them. Lydia's eyes remained in awe, while the man's glimmered with revelation, "Ah... I see..." He glanced back to Lydia, "Your companion... she possesses the Thu'um?"
"Yes," Lydia said, "She is Dragonborn." At her reply, the man looks at her, but he slowly turns his head in the direction of the end of their room with his own eyes widening in their own sense of wonder and awe. Lydia could hear him sigh with satisfaction.
"So... we summon for the Dragonborn, and a Dragonborn appears," he said, then slowly looks back at her, "While at the same time, bringing you with her; tell me, what is your relation to her?"
"Me?" Lydia said, feeling slightly anxious at the sudden attention shift to her, even just from one person, "I... I'm her housecarl. She is Jarl Balgruuf's Thane of Whiterun, and I am her protector."
"Balgruuf... Balgruuf the Fledgling..." he spoke, earning him a look from Lydia, "But, if you claim him to be Jarl of Whiterun, I assume that is longer his name?"
"He is Jarl Balgruuf the Greater," Lydia replied, a little snappier than was necessary. In that moment, she found she had involuntarily shifted herself more to sitting position, the sudden jolt of pain in her side reminding her of her sudden action. The corners of this man's mouth curved up in a small smile, and he nodded once.
"The Dragonborn heeds our summons, accompanied by a guardian outside of a designated Hold..." the man openly pondered. The more this man spoke, the more Lydia felt tension growing within herself. There was frustration, but... what exactly was working her up like this?
"Just what are you implying, exactly?" she asked. The man looked back at her, hands held in front of him.
"Forgive me, it was not my intention to appear impertinent, but rather I seek to understand," the man said in what sounded like an apologetic tone, "I feel It important that all parties involved know exactly where they themselves and others stand..." A moment's silence, and he spoke again, "I apologize, for I must speak with the Dragonborn. Know that you are not a prisoner; you may leave when you are feeling able, as your wound has stopped bleeding by now, though more rest would be recommended..." And with that, he calmly walked across the room and rounded the corner out of sight, leaving the woman alone.
Lydia was left sitting on the bed, her mind a flurry of thoughts and emotions, all from a simple exchange of words. She rubbed her head through her hair with her bare hand. Her other hand slowly drifted down to her once bleeding injured side. True to what the man had said, blood was no longer free-flowing from that spot. Upon further inspection, there was also a thinner layer of linen wrap circling her entire waist underneath her tunic. Embarrassment and gratitude wrestled within her at this discovery.
Yet despite what she felt from that, she slowly slid her legs over the bed to touch down onto the ground. Her bare feet were immediately greeted by the sharp cold of the stone floor, causing her to exhale sharply.
This man, that wise Greybeard, he didn't seem like he was prying with his line of questioning. Ironically, his questioning ended up leaving Lydia with questions of her own...
Mostly involving herself, and her Thane.
"DOOVAAAAHKIIIIN!" Siffre uttered yet again. By now she'd lost track of how long this particular exercise had been ongoing for her. What felt like long minutes? Hours? All from performing this vocal exercise.
Not that Siffre was complaining.
In fact, she was very glad to have done it. She was slow to grasp at first, but was now understanding quite the impact they were having for her. By uttering words at different volumes, she felt a better mental gauge for how strong the vibrations were that exited her mouth. The louder or harder she spoke, the more potent the vibrations. But through listening to Einarth's demonstrations, and through her attempts to recreate them, she grew accustomed to producing better control over vibrations, especially at these louder volumes.
A part of her wondered... would this also ever help her to speak, like a normal person?
At some point Siffre heard the sound of footsteps from off to the side. She glanced over to see one of the other Greybeards emerge from the side room, while the other two entered into this main chamber from the back section. Those two were the ones with the un-styled beards, while the single one's beard was styled in a single braid.
Siffre and Einarth ceased their vocal exercises as the three others joined them, the latter rising to his feet. Seeing this, Siffre did the same, and was greeted to the feeling of soreness on her ankles and her calf muscles. As those weren't sore enough already...
"Dragonborn, on behalf of the Greybeards, I welcome you to High Hrothgar," the braided Greybeard could suddenly be heard speaking. Siffre was visibly put off guard! Up until now, with her 'conversations' with Einarth, she'd assumed all the Greybeards had a complete inability to speak, save for power-filled Voices as their only communication. They were capable of speech?! And flawless speech at that?!
Her eyes shot back and forth between that man and Einarth, occasionally sparing glances at the other two as well.
"You can-" she started, but caught herself upon hearing the wrong vibrations emerge via incorrect volume. Clearing her throat she tried to speak again, "You can... talk?"
"That I can, Dragonborn," the man said, "My name is Master Arngeir. I speak for the Greybeards, metaphorically, as well as physically..." A gesturing hand indicated to his three colleagues, "The other Greybeards' Voices are too powerfully trained in the Way." Siffre blinked.
"But... how?"
"As students of the Way of the Voice, we have voluntarily made the personal sacrifice to abandon our former lives, and dedicate ourselves purely to study and worship," the speaking Greybeard, 'Arngeir', explained, "But for some of us, the sacrifices run deeper, and are much more demanding..."
"Oh..." Siffre said softly. These men had normal voices at one point, but chose to give them up? This Voice really was that powerful, wasn't it. Before she could ask more about that, another thought crossed her mind; a very important one, "Wait, Lydia! Is she...?"
"Ah, your companion?" Arngeir asked, "You need not fret, Dragonborn; her wounds have been tended to, and will make a full recovery. She had woken up a few minutes ago..." Siffre sighed with relief; Lydia would be alright, even after so close an encounter with the frost troll, "However, some time alone to rest would be recommended, for herself, and also... for you."
Siffre blinked, "Me?"
"Indeed," Arngeir explained, "We'd heard the Shout not too long ago, proclaimed our summon for the Dragonborn, and here you are now." Siffre's lips pursed lightly at this, and her brow furrowed in thought.
"So... it really is true then?" she said, "Even you... Greybeards, claim me to be... Dragonborn, just like the others did... But, what exactly does that mean? To be Dragonborn...?"
"Hmmm..." Arngeir said, audibly. He held his hands together in front of him, closed his eyes, and bowed his head in thought, "That question in itself carries more weight than you may believe. It is clear that your destiny is tied directly to that of being what you are... but, is that all there is to it? Is Dragonborn all you are meant to be, or does your future hold more in store for you?" His hands broke apart and moved back to his sides, "Ultimately... your destiny is that of your own making, as well as what you yourself must discover."
Arngeir looked back up at Siffre's eyes, "But to answer your question- What does it mean to be Dragonborn? Ah... perhaps you were expecting a more 'immediate and descriptive' answer..." He made a gesture with his hand to the center of the chamber, where the light from shone straight down from above. He and his fellow Greybeards themselves moved to stand on the very outer edges of the light. Seeing this, Siffre moved herself to stand in the very center of the light, with Arngeir directly in front of her.
"To be Dragonborn... it means to be uniquely gifted not only in the Voice, but also in its usage and application," Arngeir explained.
"But then..." Siffre suddenly spoke up, "Does that mean... if you four have this Voice... Are all of you also Dragonborn?"
"No no," Arngeir quickly dismissed with a waved hand, "A complete misconception, though it is understandable how one would think this. You see, any Nord can learn Kynareth's sacred language, the Dragon Tongue, with enough time, temperament, and of course conviction. But you... You are Dragonborn, which means... You were blessed directly by Akatosh himself with the ability to learn and speak as dragons do." Siffre rubbed her right hand along her left arm, nervously.
"W-what..." she uttered, tiny ripples of vibration rumbling through the air, "A-are you... are you saying... I'm related to a Divine?!"
"Please, be at ease, child," Arngeir said, clearly sensing her distress, "I'm sure that implication is not to be take quite so literally... You should instead think of this as a general passing of knowledge." Suddenly the building began to rumble, completely throwing Siffre off guard, but not off balance, fortunately. This was accompanied by a speaking voice directly behind Siffre.
"Rek fen tinvaak, Arngeir," Siffre spun her had around her shoulder to see that one of the Greybeards had indeed spoken.
"Hm yes, excellent idea, Borri," Arngeir's voice was heard again, causing Siffre to spin her head back to face forward.
"Huh? What just happened?" she said.
"Master Borri has proposed a demonstration be in order," Arngeir said, "Come, Dragonborn, let us taste of your Voice." Before she even knew what was happening, the Greybeards were moving again. This time, while hugging along the edge of the light, they re-positioned themselves to be standing side-by-side. All four Greybeards were standing clumped closer together, and Siffre quickly caught on to the meaning.
"You... you really want me to... Shout at you?" Her question earned her a nod from at least two of the Greybeards, "B-but, will I hurt you, if I do this...?"
"We have trained and studied in not only the Thu'um's usage, but also in resistance to it," Arngeir said, "I assure you, we will not be harmed." Siffre blinked once, then twice. Not once in between those blinks did the calm faces of the Greybeards change. Looking back at her, it's clear that they were serious. Siffre took a deep breath, held it in, and slowly exhaled, slowly feeling her heartbeat slow down in tandem.
She stared at the four robed men standing before her, and drew another deep breath, while also trying to remember what exactly the word was that she's Shouted before...
"Fus...!" Siffre blinked with narrowed eyes this time. That wasn't what she was expecting. Well, in that she was expecting 'something' to happen! But all that exited her mouth was the word itself, not that grand Thu'um blast that others have come to expect from her!
How can this be?! The one time she actually needed to Shout on cue, but nothing would happen?
As if in direct opposition to her current thoughts, the Greybeards continued to stare at her, expectedly. Their faces did not display any extreme emotions, but instead those of careful neutrality. That is until Einarth's eyes widened ever so slightly.
"Fin Fus Thu'um," he spoke softly. His tone was soft, almost whispering, yet the walls still rumbled just ever so slightly. Arngeir regarded his colleague and his comment.
"W-what? Why is... nothing happening?"
"Interesting... This Thu'um you are attempting to produce," Arngeir said, "It is 'Fus', is it not?"
"Fus..." Siffre said after giving it brief thought, "Yes.. yes, I remember... that's the word I was trying to Shout..."
"Then here is your first lesson," Arngeir said, "You must know what a word is before attempting to speak it. The word 'Fus', it means 'Force' in the Dragon Tongue."
"Force," Siffre said. As she uttered that word, her two hands involuntarily swing-twitched forward, a half-hearted attempt to push emptiness in front of her. That did make sense to her in a way, those two words did sound alike after all, "So when I Shout that word... everything in front of me gets blown away?"
"A rough and crude interpretation, but not inaccurate..." the Greybeard said, "It is a word used in the 'Unrelenting Force' Shout. Your Thu'um becomes an unstoppable 'force', and unceasingly pushes away all before you."
He then blinked and tilted his head as he looked at her, "And also remember: you must hear the word within yourself before you can project it into a Thu'um. This directly leads to the second lesson: Your inner spirit and your outward body and actions must be in harmony and in union with one another. Only then will personal balance be achieved, and your Thu'um will follow suit..."
Siffre listened to this Greybeard's instructions. Inner spirit, with body? How exactly does she do that? And moreover, how was she able to do it before?
She thought back to the last time she'd used the Shout. When was it...? Oh yes, the frost troll. Her mind's eye painted a reminder of its snarling, saliva-dripping maw. Its beady eyes bearing down on her with its sneering look. And how it... How it almost killed Lydia. How did she feel at the time? What did she feel? She felt scared, she felt pained, she felt... an urge. She'd felt an urge to want things to change, to alter an outcome that by all accounts she might not have made much difference in, but she had to do something. She had to save her... her...
Her friend.
The tension in Siffre's eyes relaxed in that moment. In fact, all tension she didn't know she'd been holding within her was feeling more relaxed the more she realized. Lydia was a friend she wanted to protect, and she felt her body relaxing, as if prepping itself to do so!
One last inhale through her nose, and she released both her breath and this feeling in one burst,
"FUS!"
-It wasn't my initial intention to break the Greybeard encounter into multiple parts, but in the end that's what I found I had to do considering the exact content I have in mind. I also apologize if the word count for each chapter isn't as long or as great as chapter 5's was; that last time was a mere coincidence, and also my usual attempts at word count per chapters I try not to reach so high (simply consult my other stories' chapter lengths to see what I mean).
But anyway, let me all know what you think so far! I've still got more ideas underway that I'd like to try and explore and give my own take on! See you then!-
