First if all I would like to thank everyone who left a review or favorited or followed (or both :p) It really is wonderful to know that people appreciates the story, even if it's just getting started.

Secondly is the fact that this chapter is a bit short, a mere 4 pages. Felt like i should wrap this part of the story up before going onto the next. ^ ^

Answer to the riddle is forgiveness.

I present to you.

Chapter 3: The wonders of magic

Midwahgein was floating. At least that's what it felt like, it turned out to be difficult to judge when she didn't have a physical form. There didn't seem to be an up and down, left or right. It all just… was.

She had seen much of the world, experienced things like one would a dream. The disappearance of the Dwemer, the fall of the White-Gold Tower, the wild hunt, the eruption of the red mountain, the construction of Alduin's wall, The oblivion crisis, the rise and fall of the Septim dynasty...so much knowledge, yet it was all flashes of sound and colour.

Vague ideas and memories that disappeared as quickly as they arrived. It kept on flowing, pulling her in all directions, Valenwood, Blackmarsh, Hammerfell... Showing her places and names, she didn't even recognize until her head felt like it was about to explode. And then, it all just stopped.

She could sense someone near. In a relative sense, she had no clue where she was, if what she was experiencing was even real. But she could sense something. Out of instinct she tried to look around, smell the air with her tongue. But she had neither. She could hear echoes, conversations perhaps? She didn't know, it may have just been another dream.

Everything was silent for a while.

Then she felt something. Something that could not have been a dream. She recognized it. The feeling of magic. This magic in particular, the taste was familiar to her. She couldn't quite place it, but she knew it was important. Her thoughts were darting around like sheep.

The feeling increased further and she finally knew what it was, no. Who it was. It was his. It was Koraaviik, she was sure of it. Pictures flashed in front of her, memories. Smells, feelings. Thoughts she hadn't touched in what felt like a lifetime. But time was such a strange thing. It made little sense to her.

She shook her none-existent head. She remembered, that was all that mattered.

She felt a pull; the magic was working. More memories, ancient enchantments, runes in a language she had never seen before. He made it work. She thought, somehow he had made it work. She felt a sense of pride swelling up inside her.

The pull got harder, she struggled against it, without even knowing why, why would she hesitate? He must be waiting for her. She needed to leave this place, wherever she was, to return to the world of the living.

The pull got tighter and yet she did not feel herself moving.

Something must be holding her, she realized. Something or someone was preventing her from returning. She felt her anger materializing, so strong she almost imagined it like a real thing. She darted around looking for whatever it was and wondered for a second if it was only her imagination.

But then she saw it, like a golden mist in front of her, stretching out to all sides as far as her eyes could see. How had she not seen it before? It was everywhere around her, like a dense fog but… Different.

She found herself momentarily at a loss of what to do. It was beautiful in a way, peaceful. She could feel its energy like a soothing wave, like a vast ocean of gold, shimmering and calm. It almost made her want to stay, maybe just for a moment to- She ripped the thought to shreds.

NO! She screamed.

Her power realized her intent and manifested around her. It was a darting quicksilver thing, flowing around her like a great serpent coiled to strike with but a thought. And with that she threw herself against the wall of mist. Fully preparing to tear it apart if need be. Whatever it was, it would not hold her back.

But just as she was about to hit, she fell right through it, as if it was never there at all. She felt the pull once more; this time it was like she was getting ripped apart. Pulled, stretched thin and smashed through time and space.

She impacted with what felt like enough force to crush a mountain.

...

...

Everything was dark.

She felt cold, numb.

Empty.

Something was approaching, something that seemed nice and warm.

However, as it got closer the feeling got replaced with something raw. Something that bore more resemblance to a raging forest fire than the soothing flame from before.

Midwahgein was old, she had fought many battles, against elders and young alike. She had felt biting cold and blazing flames against her scales before. But nothing compared to the pain this brought. It was a searing pain, one that cut through her entire being.

She would've trashed and screamed but her body didn't respond. She felt herself starting to panic. The pain was blinding, stretching across every part of her body like a wave.

And then, just as suddenly as it came it disappeared. It left her behind feeling exhausted.

There was a long welcome silence.

She felt her tired laboured breaths, the heavy stale air around her. She could feel her body again. It felt so strange. She flexed her claws a few times, the movement felt weird and yet familiar at the same time. The air was hot, almost sizzling, the stones beneath her nearly burning her scales.

Midwahgein heard a hushed voice, her thoughts immediately jumped to her bonded, Koraaviik. She sought out the bond in her mind, she had not had as much time to study it as she would've liked, but she knew what it looked like. She knew what it felt like. She sought it out in the deepest corner of her mind but found the once golden thread cold and dark.

No.

No no no...

A feeling of dread spread through her body. Has the enchantment failed? No, it couldn't have, she was alive and breathing, something must have gone wrong.

Midwahgein had to see it- She forced her eyes open, her vision blurry and unfocused like she had slept for weeks. She blinked a few times, lifting her head with sore muscles. She had only just started to look around when she saw him, limp body impaled to the wall by a spear. Panic spread through her body, nearly freezing her in place.

She felt a sense of desperation starting to form, like a tight knot in her belly. He was supposed to be alive.

Midwahgein slowly stood up, legs shaking with the effort, wings struggling to even move. She slowly dragged herself towards his body. She felt numb, her mind screaming that this wasn't supposed to be, he was supposed to be alive.

She gently puffed him with her nose, tongue flinging out to taste the air. Her senses were filled with the smell of dried bones and decayed flesh.

She didn't even try to hold back the whimper that formed in the back of her throat.

Midwahgein let herself fall to the ground with a heavy thud, eyes never leaving his still form.

She couldn't look away, she wouldn't. She had promised him it would work, that they would meet again once it was all over. She had failed him.

"Clang!"

Something moved, something metallic had hid the stone floor. Her mind returned to the hushed voice she had heard, if it wasn't Koraaviik then who was it? Head darting to the left, she almost winced from the pain but ignored it.

There, standing near an unconscious figure near a pillar stood a human. She flicked out her tongue again, she smelled four humans. One female and three males. She blinked away a few tears, her tired mind trying to make sense of what she was seeing. Her despair turned into confusion and then into cold hatred.

They must be the ones responsible. They must have done something, something to disrupt the enchantments, it was the only explanation. She found herself growling, all the while taking a few slow steps towards them. However much she wanted to deny it, her body was weak, exhausted, she had to be careful.

The human stood frozen, she could smell his fear, it was so thick in the air it might as well have been a tangible thing. Pathetic. She looked him right in the eyes. Her voice was cold, slicing through the silence like a blade.

"What did you do?" It came out more of a hiss than she had expected, but she cared little. He stood still, she noticed movement somewhere behind one of the other columns but ignored it.

She repeated her question again, this time slower. In the back of her mind she found herself wondering if the humans had somehow grown even more narrow minded in her absence "What. Did. You. DO?!" This seemed to snap him out of whatever he was doing. He visibly gulped, slowly lifting a shaking hand to point at something behind her. She narrowed her eyes, she didn't think he had the brains or the courage to attack her. And so, moved her head to look at were he was pointing.

Midwahgein found herself looking at a polished cube of obsidian, covered with runes she didn't recognize. It was riddled with cracks like someone had hit it repeatedly with a war hammer. Her mind was blank for a moment before the memories came rushing back. The runes, the enchantments, they were bound to the stone.

She must have been revived when the stone cracked. A glimmer of hope formed. The cracks in the stone must have released her, however there were still numerous runes that glowed with a faint light. Perhaps- perhaps if she… the thought had barely appeared before she found herself flying forwards swinging her tail like a club. The stone exploded in a flash of light and dust, the remaining runes breaking.

Midwahgein moved a wing to her head, in an attempt to cover her eyes from the bright light. However she nearly stumbled as she put too much weight on her other legs. She was about to get back up from the floor, when she heard the humans gasp. Her focus however was elsewhere, she didn't have to see it to know what was happening, she could feel it. The bond was flaring, familiar images and feelings flashed through her mind once more, like leaves in the wind.

No longer was it cold and stale, it was burning bright. It was like she regained a part of herself she didn't know she had been missing, she felt alive.

She heard a pained gasp, followed by the sound of something wooded hitting the floor. Her mind suddenly felt sharp and focused, she was still tired but nothing like before. Midwahgein rushed forward, he stumbled and landed on her snout, the impact knocking her head to the floor with a thud. However, the pain in her jaw meant nothing to her. He was alive, Koraaviik was alive. His eyes were half closed, his gaze unfocused.

He wrapped his arms weakly around her muzzle, mumbling something unintelligible beneath his breath before his body went limp. She felt another stab of panic, before realizing that the fiery golden thread that was their bond was still strong as ever. Midwahgein looked back towards the humans, still standing frozen in the hall and immediately decided that she could not afford to trust them.

While she felt better now that Koraaviik was back, she could feel the burst of strength fleeing her. Midwagein knew she could not keep going for long and she was not going to leave her and Koraaviiks life in the hands of some random dim-witted humans. No, she would have to take this into her own claws. There was no way to know whose side they were on, they might try and stab them in the back the minute they looked away.

Not that she ever would, Midwahgein thought, she could easily slaughter the whole lot of them. But she did not believe herself to be invincible; that was what had led them to this situation to begin with. Alduin and his stupid followers, she was better than them.

She would find a safe place and they would work from there, she thought and with a satisfied nod she carefully put Koraaviik to the ground. Lifting him in one of her claws, she set off from the ground with a few powerful beats of her wings. With a few more wing beats Midwahgein propelled herself through the hatch in the roof she had entered through.

Moments earlier:

Onmund pushed himself up from the ground with a groan, coughing and dusting himself off. He looked around before remembering what was going on. He couldn't see Tolfdir, but Jana was standing by a pillar looking herself over for injuries, and Belrand was lying a few meters away seemingly knocked out cold. His senses sharpened; he found himself thinking back to all the training sessions Tolfdir had knocked into them. What they should do when confronted with unknown magic. He could almost hear Tolfdirs voice echo in his head.

What kind of magic is it? Identifying what it is will help you understand it's properties, it will not give you a deep understanding, but it will help guide you in the right direction.

He had no idea what it was. It looked like some form of enchantment, but all the symbols put him off. It may just be some advanced type of enhancements that he had yet to learn about- maybe runes? There was also another possibility. Some forgotten type of magic that was no longer practiced, the place sure looked old enough for it, he thought. Whatever it was It had something to do with the rock they were placed on, that much was sure.

Does it seem dangerous? Knowing what precautions you need to take will not only help you stay alive but also to understand the purpose and nature of the magic.

It didn't seem to do anything before Belrand smashed it… perhaps it was some form of defensive response? That didn't explain much about its purpose though, what would it be defending? Why was it there? He had too little to go on. He felt a nagging feeling of frustration. The place was desolate and looked like it had been so for centuries at least. There may very well be clues left around, but they had rushed ahead without taking the necessary precautions.

He saw an orange light at the corner of his eye and turned his gaze to the first thing he could think of, the stone.

The rock was still somewhat in one piece, there were a few cracks and some of the symbols had stopped glowing as they were no longer intact. But that was not it. He found his gaze drawn to the dragon bones and the orange and blue flames that were starting to engulf it. It was like someone had drenched the bones in oil and set them alight.

It started from the chest area, but spread along the rest of the body within seconds. The flames were bright, casting shadows across the hall and drowning out the candlelights that were still floating around near the ceiling. Blue, gold and a deep orange. The air was simmering from the heat.

He watched in a mix of bafflement and sick fascination as the flames seemingly burned flesh, muscle and scales back into existence. It was like a wave, with every stroke of the flames more flesh formed around the old bones.

Never, not even in his wildest dreams had he thought he would witness something like this, it was like the magic of old legends and folktales, only amplified and actually true.

Was it some complicated form of necromancy? Perhaps some reanimation spell that would rebuild the body into what it once wa- shit. He got a sudden feeling of dread; and he felt a few beads of sweat on his brow, not sure if it was from the heat or the mental conclusion he had reached.

The dragon was nearly rebuilt for lack of a better word. At least he thought so, black scales were now covering most of the body, and only a few places still showed burning flesh and bone.

Onmund looked around suddenly realising he should do something, just in case his thoughts were proved to be correct. Jana and Tolfdir were still standing securely behind a pillar, heads poking out to observe the spectacle. His thoughts turned to Belrand who was still unconscious, but more importantly lying the middle of the room, right in the open, not far away from what was starting to look like a very much real dragon.

Onmund considered sneaking his way over but decided he didn't have time, he started running, avoiding whatever pieces of rocks and rusted metal that was in his way. He crouched down beside Belrand, moving a finger to feel for a pulse. He was still alive, but he had a nasty burn all the way up his right arm.

Any tension that may have been washed away upon feeling a heartbeat, returned tenfold when he heard another sound. A heavy breathing, the dragon was alive. He froze at the thought, his brain not quite having caught up with the event, the dragon was alive. He had half expected it when he saw it somehow getting burned into existence but still, how?

An eye opened, a large reptilian eye the colour of molten gold glowing faintly in the dim lit room. The dragon lifted it's head, slowly, eyes darting around as if looking for something. As it found what he presumed was the dragon priest it stopped and then seemingly dragged its body forward. It was a slow, ungraceful movement. He could hear as well as see the wings and tail as they were all but dragged along the stone floor.

Onmund wasn't sure what to think, was it supposed to move like that? He didn't think so, but then again, what did he know about dragons? It might have been because of the resurrection he thought.

Humans were often exhausted after being wounded or suffering from magical exhaustion. However none of those really seemed comparable to having your body burned back into existence, especially not after having been dead for thousands of years. His train of thought fell apart when he heard the dragon...whimpering?

It was a slow, high pitched sound, It wasn't something he had ever expected to hear coming from a dragon, not that he had ever expected to meet one. More importantly, he thought, why was it whimpering at the dragon priest?

Did they know each other? Were dragons even intelligent?

He forcefully put the thoughts aside for a moment, reminding himself that now was very much not the time. He still had to get Belrand into cover, preferably behind one of the massive stone pillars. He grabbed Belrand around his shoulders and started to pull him back. He was a heavy man, and it ended up more awkward than he thought. Halfway there he nearly stumbled on a rock, dropping Belrand who landed on the floor. His limp body knocking over a piece of rusty metal that made a loud clang as it bounced against the rocks.

Onmund stopped dead in his tracks.

The dragon instantly stopped whimpering and instead swung it's great head around and stared directly at him.

He felt frozen in place, should he run? Would that make it attack him? He thought he had heard something like that before, that the best thing one could do when faced with a sabre cat was to stand still and hold your ground. He decided he would stand still and hope it hadn't seen him. It was a silly thought he knew, but he didn't know what to do. The dragon growled, a deep rumbling sound, that seemed to drown out all other sounds in the room. The dragon started walking towards him, this time the steps looked calculated, they held meaning. He stopped breathing.

He looked it right in the eyes, fiery golden pierced right through him. Fear seemed to be the only thing he was capable of feeling, it was like the rest of the room disappeared around him and he was left standing frozen and alone, with nothing but the massive dragon in front of him.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he was starting to understand why people had worshipped the dragons. It was standing at least 20 feet tall and probably 3 times as long, thick black scales and massive wings that blocked out the room behind it. It's head alone was bigger than his body. He felt pathetic standing there in front of it. Pathetic and worthless. He saw the mouth moving, but he didn't hear anything, too caught up with staring at the razor sharp teeth and foot long claws.

"What. Did. You. DO?!"

It could talk, the dragon could talk. The voice was beautiful and yet powerful, smashing him back into focus. It wanted to know what he did. Was it angry that it was alive again? How was he supposed to know what he did when he himself didn't know? Technically it wasn't even Onmund who did it, he thought, it was Belrand, but somehow he didn't think the dragon would take any of those things for an answer.

He could do nothing more than point a shaky hand in the direction of the stone, that seemed to have started it all.

It narrowed its eyes at him, he feared he had done something wrong but it soon turned it's head to look at the stone.

As it looked away it was like someone lifted a spell from him. He took a breath and felt himself relaxing, if only a bit. He felt sweaty, his nails were dug so far into his palms it was a wonder he wasn't bleeding. He quickly ducked and pulled Belrand the last of the way behind the pillar out of reflex as the dragon suddenly spun around and swung its tail through the air. There was another explosion, bright light flooded the room and he was forced to cover his eyes.

It smashed the rock, he concluded, as his eyes once again got used to the dim light of the main chamber. This time the destruction of the rock brought with it more fire. Only it was the dragon priest that started burning. It was a swift thing, like a flash of flames, bright blue, deep orange and gold. Still, he couldn't keep himself from gasping, the magic was impressive, far beyond his level and much more powerful than anything he had ever seen.

The spear that had impaled the priest to the wall fell out, the tip had melted and what remained of the shaft was burning on the dusty stone floor. The priest was standing unsteadily, struggling to stay upright. The dragon suddenly came bolting across the room and caught the priest with its head before he hit the ground. Its eyes were wide, staring at the priest that was now lying on its head.

That must have been it, Onmund thought. It wanted to revive the priest as well.

He looked at the stone, half expecting it to still be standing. His gaze found nothing but dust however, the stone was gone. That meant there wouldn't be anything else getting revived… right?

He looked on as the priest went limp, the dragon stood still for a moment a single eye returning to stare at him. However before he knew what was going on, the dragon had grabbed the priest with one of it's claws, lifted off from the floor and launched itself through a hatch in the roof he didn't even know were there.

He stood there, not really sure what to think. He shook his head and turned around finding Jana, Carl and Tolfdir staring open mouthed at the now open roof.

Tolfdir's shaken voice was the first to break the silence that had fallen on the room.

"I...I- " he shook his head and visibly gulped before continuing, "We must inform the arch mage of this...he'll know what to do."

Thanks for reading. Pretty please, leave me a review :)

Hope you liked it despite how short it was. Normally I'm not much for repeating chapters like that but I do feel that viewing this one form a different perspective was necessary for a whole bunch of reasons, most of all because this is the very first 'meeting' Midwahgein has with humans from this time. First impressions are important after all.

This riddle is a real classic 'The more you take the more you leave behind. '