Dovahzul, the dragon language. However lovely it might be I'm not very proficient with it. And while I could probably do a decent job with a translator there simply wouldn't be a reason to make longer sentences. Mostly because very few if any of you (myself included) won't understand what's written anyway. For those reasons I'll keep it to a minimal, there may be a word here'n there but nothing beyond that.
Answer to the riddle is footsteps :P
Anyway, on with the story!
Koraaviik woke to a feeling of pain, not the kind you feel when you stub your toe. More the kind that makes you feel like you lost an argument with a cave bear. It was all over at first, but after a short while he managed to pin it down to the majority of the left part of his body.
He considered for a moment if something might be broken, an arm or a leg, maybe a few ribs. Everything felt stiff and sore.
After a short while of resting he tried moving his arms, but was rewarded with a sharp stab of pain that made him grit his teeth. Instead he tried to listen, the sound of something breathing heavily near him was clear. If he listened closely enough, he could hear birds chirping and the wind rustling the trees. Must be someplace outside he concluded.
The revelation was more confusing than it was helpful. How did he get outside and why did the breathing sound so familiar? The last thing he remembered was…
He threw himself to his feet, immediately regretting it as his vision darkened and he crumbled from the pain, hitting the ground again this time in a sitting position. His fists clenched tight enough to draw blood. Taking a deep breath he opened his eyes. Everything was blurry and it took a few seconds before he could make out the details on the scaly head in front of him.
He slowly turned his head, first left then right. Nothing but a wall of scales; even the sky above him was blocked by one of her massive wings. Midwahgein was curled around him. A small smile crossed his lips as turned to look at her head again. She was looking at him, golden eyes filled with relief but also worry. A slight tingle ran through his head as she poked his mind, he gladly let her in. No words were needed.
He learned himself forward a bit, bumping his head into hers in a familiar gesture, leaning slightly on her to stop himself from falling over. He breathed in a few times, trying to get his body to stop shaking, though the pain made it difficult to focus. She leaned into the touch, albeit carefully for fear of worsening his injuries.
After a short moment he broke away and looked himself over, he was still wearing his armour and his mask: The latter of which he pulled off and carefully put beside him on the ground. His robe was slightly ripped around his left hip and thigh.
Slowly he moved a hand down to push the cloth away and was greeted by bruises, coloured everything between black, blue and purple with specks of blood. Seeing it made him all the more aware of the pounding pain he was feeling, he hissed a few curses through gritted teeth. Koraaviik tried to give her a reassuring smile, but it came out as a pained grimace.
That did not look good he thought, letting out a sigh. On the plus side he was a pretty talented healer, downside was that he was absolutely exhausted, so fully patching it up: However pleasant getting rid of the pain would be, was not possible. No, a simple healing spell would have to do, he simply didn't have the strength for anything more advanced right now.
His hand was shaking but nonetheless he managed it, the warm glow was followed by his skin being somewhat patched up, it was still a bright red, but at least the pain was diminished enough for him to move, without feeling like he was falling apart that is.
Midwahgein looked from his wounded side to him again, before regretfully admitting "I would have healed it myself, but the resurrection left me weakened."
He waved her off with a half smile "I am alright, It's not as bad as it looks."
He pushed himself up, legs slightly shaking from the sudden weight that was put on them. Midwahgein hesitantly moved her head back as well as her wing, the sudden light making him flinch. They were indeed outside, cold grey rocks, thick and sturdy looking pine trees and a massive cliff face beside them that seemed to stretch all the way to the skies. It looked like they were on some sort of outcropping on a mountain.
Koraaviik stood there for a while, trying and failing horribly at identifying where they were.
His memory was a bit cloudy but he remembered the battle, their last stand in the temple.
He remembered dying.
It was at that moment it finally caught up to him, his spell had worked. He wasn't sure why he felt so surprised, part of him was never in doubt about the power and function of it, but it all just seemed so... so impossible at the time. Bringing someone back from the dead, flesh bone and soul included? He had never heard of anything like that before. And yet, here they were alive and breathing, he had done it. "It worked" he whispered to himself.
"Of cause it did, you should have some more faith in yourself" Midwahgein's voice rang through the clearing, somehow managing to praise him and criticize him at the same time. He smiled; some things never changed.
As his eyes travelled the area he saw a crater, a few feet deep and ten times as long. Earth, rocks and roots had been pushed up and thrown around. He blinked a few times, taking in the scene.
He turned to look at her "You crash landed, are you alright?"
She huffed, as if the very idea of being hurt was an insult. "You need not worry about me"
He looked at the scene another time, there was no blood, only some scales. But a crash landing without knocking loose a few scales would be an act of Akatosh himself. Midwahgein was probably right as always. Besides, he reassured himself, if she was in great pain he would've felt it through the bond.
Thoughts and feelings were easily kept to themselves, but if one were careless or if said feelings were powerful enough it would start bleeding through, something he had learned the hard way during some heated discussions concerning humans and other such sensitive topics.
His gaze returned to the setting sun. "How long was I out?"
Midwahgein looked thoughtful for a moment before answering. "I am not sure, I suspect I slept for a few days after we crashed and maybe a few more with you."
So anything between 3 days and a week, no wonder he felt beaten.
He shook his head before he walked away from the crater. Fully aware of the eyes that followed him, he turned his attention to the surrounding area. They were high up, forests were thick around the mountain, with a few hills and rivers scattered on the ground below. The sky was coloured orange and pink with the sun setting on the horizon.
Nature seemingly stretching on forever, mountains each one a marvel to behold, though one in particular caught his attention. One that was taller than all the others, piercing the heavens and continuing upwards. Clouds passing it like water around a rock, it was a magnificent sight. "Monahven" he whispered, the name flowing from his lips before he really had time to think about it. It meant mother wind in Dovahzul, the throat of the world.
"You remember the name" Midwahgein commented. He turned his head halfway towards her before answering
"I do" He remembered it quite clear. He had gone there on occasion, to enjoy the silence. The place was so secluded, so isolated from the rest of the world, that it might as well have been its own little plane of oblivion.
For him it had proven to be a good place to relax, though it felt like a lifetime since he'd been there. But, however tempting a trip to the top would've been, there were far more important things that needed to be done, like figuring out where they were and what year it was.
Midwahgein, probably sensing the question coming replied, "I don't know where we are, but judging from the surroundings I'd say the southern part of Skyrim"
Koraaviik gave her an incredulous look. She only huffed before continuing "I didn't exactly take my time to look around. There were humans, mages by the looks of it. The fools seemed to have resurrected us by accident." Not that I mind- was left unspoken. There was a short pause before Midwahgein continued in a more serious tone. "Although, I fear we may have been gone for a long time, much longer than we anticipated."
Koraaviik turned to fully face her where her massive form was resting on the rocky ground a few feet away. "What do you mean?"
"The humans were exploring the temple like one would an ancient ruin. Either they were ignorant of its history or we have been gone for a long, long time"
He stood there not really sure what to think. It was possible that the Nords had destroyed all knowledge that existed on them after the war. But even without books... It was a dragon temple, one of the greatest fortifications and important places in Skyrim. Simply forgetting it ever existed? Koraaviik couldn't really get that to make sense, but Midwahgein was right- who knew how long they had been gone. They didn't know who ruled the land, they didn't know who was still alive, if any at all.
Thinking about it they didn't know a whole lot, they didn't even know where they were. His mind immediately started to kick in, thoughts and priorities forming with a practised ease.
"We need knowledge of the time and state of the land, a map wouldn't hurt either" He said. And as the sun was setting and the darkness creeping in he spotted a group of flickering lights in the distance.
"It looks like there's a village near the foot of the mountain, might have what we need," he suggested. Midwahgein was silent, though judging from her facial expression she didn't seem too sold on the idea. Just as he feared she wasn't going to respond Midwahgein breathed out heavily before answering "You are right, but I will not be able to follow"
He slowly nodded, it was the only real choice, they had no time to waste. For all they knew, a hunting party could've spotted her and could be preparing for an all out hunt. The timing was convenient however, the sun was nearly setting, and it would be dark outside by the time he reached the village.
The sun had set behind the mountains and was replaced by a crescent moon that shone with a dim silvery light.
He hadn't realized how tired he really was until he started the climb. Thankfully the cold and damp air kept him awake and focused.
The trip down the mountain wasn't exactly an easy one. There was no real trail, only steep steps and rocks with a few roots and plants scattered around. His armour wasn't exactly made for climbing either, but it only took him what he thought was half an hour to reach the bottom.
From there the city was pretty easy to spot, sturdy wooden buildings scattered amongst the trees, smoke slowly rising from the chimneys and the light from torches shimmering in the night. He had avoided the main road, it was too risky. The Locals might be friendly for all he knew, finding a stranger: albeit one masked and dressed in scaly Armor. They might just invite him in for tea, usually people would bow or retreat in fear, upon meeting a dragon priest like him but… that was before… well before they died and disappeared for who knows how long.
He let out a deep sigh.
The reign of the dragons hadn't ended because dragons were popular and adored by the populace. No, better not to risk confronting anyone, until he knew more about the world.
As he approached the first of many problems arose, the gate, if one could call a crumbling stone structure with no door a gate. It was well lit and there were two armed guards on the lookout. He would have to find another way in. The right side was blocked by a mountain, the path to the left was the only option he had.
He took a quick look around to make sure no one was near, but saw only trees, bushes and darkness: Good enough. Getting up from his crouching position in the bushes and quickly crossing the street, nearly stumbling as his robe got caught on a broken branch. Koraaviik silently cursed, long robes and ceremonial armour, however useful it might be, was not ideal for a trip through the forest. The mask he could live with, it did little in the way of hindering his vision or breathing and it was black, making it easier for him to hide among the foliage, or at least he hoped so.
Quickly he continued through the forests, until he reached a rocky hill that overlooked the outskirts of the city. A second small climb and he reached the top before taking a few careful steps to crouch behind a tree. Letting his gaze slowly glide over the city, taking in every little detail he couldn't help but feel a bit lost. Nothing seemed even remotely familiar, the walls, the wooden houses, the architecture...just how long had they been gone? Koraaviik moved back into cover behind the tree, feeling a twinge of panic. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, "That is why you are Koraaviik". To answer those questions, plain and simple. Midwahgein had made it quite clear that if anything seemed off, anything at all, he was to return immediately. And while he would prefer nothing more than to stay in her warm embrace, he also knew it wouldn't get them anywhere, it simply wasn't an option.
He opened his eyes and this time took another determined look at the village. There were a dozen buildings or so, one of them a smithy, the glowing embers in a forge was easy to identify. Then there were a bunch of houses with signs dangling near the entrance, shops maybe? A graveyard, a sawmill and lastly there was the grand house in the middle, presumably housing some authoritative figure. He briefly considered just walking in and demanding the information. But that idea was dismissed just as quickly as it came. They had lost the war, and while he wouldn't consider himself a part of the crimes committed by the dragon cult, he couldn't count on them feeling the same. No, he would have to find a shop of some kind, presuming there was one. Break in, and get whatever he could find that would help him and Midwahgein.
It barely sounded like a plan when he thought about it, but it was all he had. Worst case scenario was him having to fight his way out, even then he was pretty confident in his ability to do so, exhausted as he was. He identified four guards, two at each gate, besides that the streets were empty with only a few torches providing light.
How convenient.
Koraaviik carefully made his way down the hill, approaching one of the larger houses in the village, one he quickly labelled a tavern. The bustling noises he could hear through the open windows told him enough. The city isn't empty, only drunk. Hopefully it will stay that way. He made his way right, towards the road that went straight through the city. There, he thought, on the other side of the street was a sign with a weight on it, a common symbol for a merchant. The sight brought a little hope with it, now he just had to find a way in. He made his way across the road, carefully watching his surroundings for any unpleasant surprises, there were none. As he arrived at the merchant's house he crouched and observed the lock: It seemed fairly simple. He took another look around, feeling slightly paranoid, before trying his luck by opening it with a telekinesis spell. A basic understanding of locks and a certain degree of patience seemed to be enough as he heard the door unlock. He let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding and sneaked inside the dark house before silently closing the door behind him.
The inside was pitch black, even the fireplace was cold and dark. Good, he thought, that meant the owners were either in bed or not home. He summoned a small blue flame in his hand to get some vision. The room was pretty much what he had expected, a large desk to his right, behind which he could see two large shelves. To his left was an open area followed by a staircase leading upstairs. Beneath the staircase he found another shelf as well as a chest, all of the furniture was made of the same cold, brown wood.
Not hearing any sounds he quickly decided to check behind the desk. There were a number of books along with what he deemed to be a jewelry box. Neither of them were a map, however. He quickly checked the large shelves behind him, but found only dishes, cubs and a few tools that he had no use for. Koraaviik felt himself getting more and more agitated, hissing through gritted teeth "What kind of merchant wouldn't have a bloody map lying around?!". He took a deep breath, trying to settle his nerves, his exhaustion and the pain in his side was getting to him he knew. But nevertheless he couldn't shake off the feeling that this whole...thing was wrong. He didn't know what year it was or where he was, he broke into some unknown person's house in some unknown city filled with people he didn't know.
He had seen no banners that he recognized, the white stag on a blue background was not one he remembered. He remembered many, the grey mountain on white of house Bale, the black wolf of hause Caine, the roses of house Braton...then there were the Greyhills, the mason's and the Whitetree's from which Nirah had originated. Learning them all at heart had been part of his training, knowledge of the land and who lived on it was rightfully considered important for one in his position. The memories were of little use right now though, but he found that it soothed his mind a bit to think of something he knew, a small sense of familiarity in a place where there was otherwise none to be found.
He once again looked around, taking in his surroundings one more time before carefully making his way to the large chest beneath the staircase. The lock was not like the one on the door, he kept getting close to opening but was never quite there. Everytime he felt like he got it caused him to lose his concentration and in turn, his progress with the lock. When he finally got it he practically flung it open, something he immediately regretted as it impacted the wall behind it with a loud bang. Koraaviik froze.
There was a moment of silence, before he heard the sound of heavy footsteps stomping around on the floor above him. Someone spoke in a gruff voice but to his horror he didn't understand any of it.
He crushed the thought aside, no time. He cast a quick glance into the chest but only saw clothes. Without time to look through the rest he dashed across the room with quick steps, grabbed a handful of the closest books before flinging himself out of the door and onto the street. Koraaviik had only made it a few steps out before he slammed into something, the world spun around before he painfully hit the ground, scattering the books around the street.
Once again Koraaviik was reminded of his wounds when the throbbing pain returned with a vengeance. Not to mention he could feel Midwahgein's attention on him through the bond, she must have felt something was amiss. Despite the situation he tried his best to send soothing thoughts along the bond, he had to do this on his own. He held no illusions about Midwahgein, she would gladly come down in a fury of flame, claws and teeth if she suspected he was in danger.
However, murdering the locals would only cause more problems right now. Having done his best to project some calming thoughts through the bond, he grabbed the nearest five books, before pulling himself up from the muddy road. Looking around, his fears were confirmed when he heard a hoarse voice behind him mutter something unintelligible.
Koraaviik found himself eye to eye with a man, he absentmindedly noticed the dishevelled look. He wore a thick wool shirt and some rough pants of some unknown fabric held in place by a simple leather belt. His beard and hair looked wild and unkempt, the fact that he was now partially covered with mud did little to improve his looks. The moment the man looked at Koraaviik though, he gave out a startled scream and tried to retreat, only to trip over his own feet and fall onto his back with a heavy thud.
Koraaviik wondered for a moment if the man was drunk, it seemed plausible considering the only part of the city that seemed to still be awake was the inn. He briefly considered killing the man in order to avoid witnesses. However, he was quickly reminded of his predicament when he heard the shop owner shout from within the house, a string of unrecognisable words, probably something about him being a thief if he had to guess. He turned on his step, running for all he was worth towards the outcropping from which he entered the city, his side painfully protesting every step of the way.
He reached the rock formation within a few seconds and levitated the books to the top before climbing the few steps. He could hear shouts somewhere behind him, but he didn't dare look. Sprinting through the woods, almost tripping on roots and rocks, Koraaviik reached the foot of the mountain where he had climbed down. He could still hear sounds from the village but they were distant: Chances were they had lost him somewhere in the woods. They had no clue what direction he went, at least not yet he told himself as he started the climb back up.
Hopefully the trip had been worth it, not only had he failed to find a map, he had been seen. And while he was wearing a mask he feared his carelessness would come back to bite them.
What always runs but never walks, often murmurs, never talks, has a bed but never sleeps, has a mouth but never eats?