Jon shook Lydia awake as the dawn began rising over the Skyrim forest. Morning birds were out singing, and salmon were jumping though the river. Lydia woke up and saw the light, heard the song, and smelled the morning dew.
She said, "Why didn't you wake me for third watch?
Jon hesitantly replied, "Because you needed the sleep and I didn't?"
When she looked angry, Jon knew last night's hijinx had passed. She said, "My Th-
Jon cut in, "Jon. And I literally only need four hours of sleep. Two would have been fine, but I prefer getting as much as I can get. You however will not function as well with less, and having it broken midway thought the night. Now lets get some fare in us and get back on the road."
They both ate cheese, some bread, and bits of salted meat fried in a pan. Jon asked, "Pemmican. Ever hear of it?"
Lydia shook her head with a mouthful of food. Taking a swig of water she said, "No, What is it."
Jon answered, "Dried meat, any will do, tallow, and sometimes juniper berries. It's a dense travel ration, incredibly efficient, and tastes good. I'd make It or have it made by the crate and eat them by the brick. What about Lembas bread? One bite fills you up, maybe the Elves make it? It was in one of our myths back home."
Lydia said, "No. nothing like that. You can make food that gives you boons with alchemy ingredients. Such as using fire-salt instead of regular salt in your stew, which was good by the way, you can fortify yourself against the cold for most of the day. That's an easy one everyone knows, but I am no alchemist. I can tell you which are okay to eat and not and that's about it."
Jon nodded. They both took to the Imperial road, and Jon whistled for his and his Housecarl's horse. That beast charged against a dragon with him on top. He could trust his Valkyrie to keep herself and her sister Freya out of trouble. He did trust her with his life, after all."
There wasn't much more fanfare on the road to Ivarstead. People would pass here or there, and he would inform them that the tower is clear and perhaps a good place to rest until the Jarl restaffed it. Everyone had a smile on their faces when they heard that. It was mostly people in carts and ahorse, a Thane here or there with a horseless Housecarl, and Jon would always introduce himself with title when those travelers passed. No Housecarl of his walked.
I took about a day to get to their destination. The sun was just beginning to set, with maybe an hour or two of daylight left when he spied the village of about 2000 people. It sat at the base of the Hrothgar mountain range, and had it's foundations in the pilgrimage there. It was a tourist town, and looked like one with plenty of inns and shops to choose from. It also had a healthy market for fish from the river, saw milling from logs coming down the river, and a few decent homesteads on the outskirts. Jon kept seeing a problem.
He asked, "What are food exports and imports like."
Lydia wasn't an economist. Why and how in Oblivion would she know? She said, "I'm your Housecarl, Jon, not your banker. I do not know. All I do know is that most people don't hurt for food, even if it's tight at times. There hasn't really been a famine since the Oblivion Crisis nearly burned the continent. That was a literal apocalypse. The Great War caused disruptions, but most of the deaths from that war were from the war, not as a consequence of it."
Jon asked, "But how? I haven seen enough farmland to support the city or this town. The farms I see here would be good for a village like Riverwood, not a decent sized town like Ivarstead. Where is the food coming from?"
Lydia said, "I don't know how to answer that. We grow the food. The game is also extremely plentiful. Skyrim is a vast and fertile land despite the reputation for ice and snow."
Jon thought about it for a moment. Po-Ta-Toes. Boil them, mash them, stick them in a stew. He said, "Potatoes. How long do they take to grow."
Lydia said, "They can grow pretty much anywhere. If you're soil is near barren, maybe a month. For good farmland, as little as two weeks."
Jon paled. Not in his or anyone's wildest imaginations. He didn't think anyone, not even the former Patriarch, could engineer a growth rate like that. He said, "Yeah, I was expecting around three months. Jesus fucking Christ. Magic in the soil I guess?"
Lydia nodded, "Yes, but it cant replace what the plants need. On our farm, the soil wasn't bad, but not the best. We were tilling compost in every few months to enrich it. Mother was trying to grow alchemy ingredients. She didn't know a lick about it either, but Arcadia paid good coin for what we grew. She said our stock was getting more potent over time, so it was working until the bandits came."
Jon said, "Yeah, you are bang on. There's a whole science behind soil health. Fuck. So those farms can not only supply the town, but export food to the cities."
Lydia said, "Yeah probably. All of my farm knowledge was from when I was a girl so I'm not as knowledgeable on it. When the guard took me in, they gave me one of the empty officers quarters, and I've been a street rat ever since, when I wasn't training. Like I said, haven't actually left the city in a while. It is nice to do so, however."
Jon asked, "How long have you been housecarling."
Lydia said, "Since yesterday."
Jon was shocked. He said, "Seriously? You took the oath yesterday?"
Lydia shifted a bit. Then a bit more. She said, "As I said, I honor the man that helped raise me. I was thinking about the oath for a while. I wanted to do something more than stand a watch, but never did anything to be Thaned like my mother. I...I saw you rally all of Whiterun to war against the greatest enemy we have ever known. The Old Gods returned. The World Eater himself. Where there was fear and doubt, you created hope by your will and presence alone. You did it like it was nothing. A few words, naming a sword. Those war chants? That was an official declaration by tradition, a court crying for war. The Jarl's words after it? That set it in stone. I was in the upper levels watching it unfold. When he called you Thane, and said that only just before the battle that you were named, I put my name in for housecarl immediately, and prayed to every Divine I was chosen to serve you. I wanted to make my own mark on history, as you did. As I know you will."
Jon said, "After what happened to you? And yet you charge forward knowing what you know? I could not have asked for any better, Lydia Doom-Driven."
Lydia smirked, "Thank you, Thane Jon, Dragonborn. I am your Doom-Driven sword and shield."
They both stabled their horses and walked around the town. They identified an inn of interest, and then moved on to inspecting the shops. Jon found what he was looking for. A Bosmer was was chopping though his last tasks for the day.
Jon said, "Hail, butcher."
The Bosmer said, "Hail, friend. It's hunter actually, I just process all of my own stuff. You were the one that helped one of our own out of the mine. Big Redguard in robes."
Jon cocked his head to the side. He knew what the man was talking about, but he wanted him to respond. The Bosmer said, "Word travels fast in the woods. How can I help you? Give you a bit of a discount."
Jon nodded. He said, "I'm wondering if you can make something for me. Its called Pemmican."
Jon proceeded to explained what it is and how its made, and the Bosmer's eyes went wild. He said, "How in the Oblivion did we not think of that! We're literally the meat people! That's our thing, and we don't even care if it's a stereotype! Who came up with this? You?"
Jon shook his head, "The Native Americans, from my homeland far away. Its an ancient recipe. Is there any way to patent or copyright this? Sell the recipe?"
The Bosmer thought about it, "Well I'm definitely going to make and sell it to pilgrims. Once people know about it, you cant stop them from doing the same, and what kind of chef keeps recipes secret save for a special ingredient or two. I have a bunch of other things I can put in a tome. I've been working on it for a while, but also need some investment to get it off the ground. Pemmican could be the cornerstone of what sells it, and then I get to show some Bosmer culture to people too. 'Recipes of the Bosmer.' If you would be willing to talk coin, I would give you say…."
Jon said, "15% stake, make sure you credit the North American Tribes for their recipe."
The Bosmer nodded, "Of course. Slightly above standard finders fee, but this is going to revolutionize field provisions, so more than fair. I'll also make sure to credit your North American Tribes. Put it at the back of the tome so its still a Bosmer cook book, with an addition from friends of other woods. I think the bank is still open for a little bit longer. Already have a whole plan. There's actually a bookshop in town, and I just need the coin to have the first tomes made so I can sell them. Say, 1000 Septims?"
Jon nodded and they walked over to the still open bank. The teller was behind the counter inking his last tasks for the day. He said, "Ah, hello. Alyn, and a new customer as well. I am Septimus Bankerson, operator of the Ivarstead branch of the Silver-Blood Bank. Are you here to open an account?"
Jon said, "No, Mr. Bankerson. I'm here to invest in Alyn actually. I already started an account at the Whiterun branch." Jon showed the banker his seal.
The banker nodded at the frugal man with a copper seal. He carried himself like a noble, yet he understood that only coin was coin, and spending it on an ostentatious seal is not financially sound. He said, "Of course sir, Alyn has been in to talk about opening his project to investment before. Unfortunately, cookbooks are not hot ticket items in the banking world, no matter how exquisite the recipes are. My wife simply loves your work, by the way Alyn. She can prepare meats for our meals in half the time, double the taste, and our relationship has only profited from it."
Jon nodded. He couldn't ask for better recommendations. Alyn said, "Well I found a private investor here. Even if I could get investment though the bank, I would have to pay them however much compared to the 15% to him. He's even adding his own recipe from fellow wood-people, and it's revolutionary in the world of provisions. Now my tome will be the first to have it, along with all the other ways to take and prepare fresh game. I bet it would be a hit among the military crowds especially. Guaranteed sales there."
Bankerson smiled, "Wonderful sirs, your success is guaranteed. I will get the paperwork, and it can all be notarized under Silver-Blood seal for a small fee."
The paperwork was signed and sealed by all three men. Alyn had an account, so any coin that went into his account for the venture would have Jon's cut automatically added to his. He suspected it would sell well, especially as this land had soldiers and adventures in spades, and he would probably even buy one himself. He mentally hit himself. Why didn't he negotiate a free tome? Why did he even care about that? Was he a literal gold hoarding dragon now? Jon didn't know.
The Thane and Housecarl walked back though the thinning crowd and to their inn of choice, the slightly out of the way Vilmyr Inn. They didn't want to have to fight for rooms with other pilgrims. The Vilmyr inn was actually one of the preferred spots for the town's own crowd of drinkers and merry makers. They didn't want to deal with the pilgrims either, but the place still had rooms for any brave enough to tread off the beaten path of the main road.
Jon walked up to the innkeep and the man said, "Hail, wizard. I'm Wilhelm, welcome to the Vilmyr. You a pilgrim?"
Jon nodded, "Jon, and yup. Going up tomorrow. I need two rooms, and enough food for four men.
Wilhelm said, "Sorry, friend. We only got one room left, but it is a double bed."
Jon turned back and asked Lydia, "You alright with that?"
Lydia nodded and Jon said, "That's fine. I also need two baths."
Wilhelm nodded, "Aye, no coin for the bath since you're renting a room and buying a good amount of food. Some mead as well?"
Jon said, "Have my own mead actually, just don't feel like cooking. Don't know what swill you drink out here, but I'm a Honningbrew man."
Wilhelm chucked hard. He said, "More than fair, Jon. Black-Briar, and you ain't wrong about it being swill. Technically violating the contract I was strong armed into by saying that. Damn near have to smuggle my own personal stock in, I do."
Jon didn't like the sound of that, but he had other concerns than another feud in the shadows. He said, "Thanks, Wilhelm. We'll pick a table, and here, have a Honningbrew on me."
Wilhelm smiled he said, "Thank you. Say, I've been looking for someone to investigate something for me, but I didn't want to just ask anybody."
Jon said, "Alright, I cant guarantee anything though, I would have to hear you out first. There are other matters to consider and places for me to go after my Pilgrimage."
Wilhelm nodded, "Perfectly fair. There's a barrow just past the edge of this side of town. There's a ghost there. I saw it one night fishing, and I need someone to clear the place out. If more see it, then rumors start that the town is haunted, because it is. It might affect Pilgrim visitors and then everyone's coin. Even if I prefer the native crowd, I don't live in the wilderness on my own. The Pilgrimage is what really keeps the coin flowing in this town."
Jon asked, "And you don't want report it officially or otherwise, because then the rumors would start, which you don't want. Your trusting me for my discretion, a friendly stranger in robes that might have experience with ghosts, and that will simply move on when he's done."
Wilhelm nodded again, "And there's no guarantee I could get anyone to actually clear the crypt. It would be a matter of sullying our dead. I don't much like asking to begin with, but who knows what else is in there that could attack the town. I don't think our ancestors would want us to sacrifice our own well being and livelyhoods to preserve their rotting corpses. He's what I'm offering you, legend says-"
Jon took a sharp breath and cut the innkeeper off, "Keys to doors. Not legend, fact."
Jon saw more with his superior dragon eyes, more than he ever did with his augment ones. That at least was a distinct advantage. He now saw the true glitter of the Sapphire claw in front of him. Treasure, he thought, each one priceless beyond measure. If he had a nearly complete set? He knew now why the claw would call to him and some others. We wondered if the dull gold glinted the same. He would have to look at it again. He would also have to talk to Lucian. He can't keep his hoard In one place, and he could think of no one better if he had to entrust a claw to someone. If.
Wilhelm smiled, "See I knew I was asking the right person. Look, I know its probably valuable, but all this represents to me is a haunted tomb. Keep this, keep whatever you find in there, and I'll even throw in tonight's room and board for free."
Jon slowly moved hand to the claw, and showed Wilhelm the truth of his eyes. Wilhelm was taken aback, but not overly so as it was not the first strange thing he's seen. Jon said, "I'm going to take this. Keep it secure. On my Honor as Thane of Whiterun, I will immediately investigate the crypt when I return from the Pilgrimage."
Wilhelm thought a moment, and then nodded, releasing the claw. He could trust the man in front of him. He was Thane after all, a real one by the looks of it, and what he thought was a shield-maiden at first was obviously his Housecarl. Now the question about sharing a room made sense.
Jon and Lydia picked their table, and ate their fill of food. It was a good Potatoes and small game stew, with a mix of vegetables as well. Two bowls each, some cheese and bread as well, and they both took their baths one after the other. Then they took to their room. Lydia would have to take her armor off to sleep in the bed next to her Thane, and Jon needed his robes washed by the inn staff. They woke up the next morning platonicly half naked and wrapped in each others strong arms.
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It was later in the day when the guardswoman hesitantly opened the door to the holy place in front of her, and spied the darker passages within High Hrothgar. The entry was dark, but opened into a wider area well lit by brazers all around. She could just see a Master Graybeard standing within sight, and she knew in her cold bones that he could see her. How couldn't he, being directly in front of her when she opened the door. The sound of the action no doubt alerted the other Graybeards, and she could hear them shuffling on the cold stone floor to great the entrant to their sacred keep.
The guardswoman steeled herself, already making it this far and seeing no reason to stop now no matter how silly her quest was. Well it wasn't all silly. She walked into the light in front of the Masters and the lead one said, "Welcome, welcome. Not many make it this far on the Pilgrimage, fewer still actually enter. Please warm yourself next to the fire."
The guardswoman respectfully bowed. She said, "Thank you, Master Graybeards. It is an honor to stand here before you. My reason for being here is two-fold. First, I have some food for you on behalf of Klimmek of Ivarstead. He asked me to bring this offering in his stead."
One of the silent masters walked up to the guardswoman and bowed himself as he took the offering of dried fruits and fish. The lead Master said, "Ah, that is his name. We knew one would leave us the food, but he never entered the halls of this place, so we knew not who was so gracious to us. Please give Klimmek our personal regards and gratitude when you return. Now, you said you had another reason for being here?"
The guardswoman shifted, and steeled herself once again. She was here, now, all she had to do was ask, even if she knew the answer. She said, "Yes, of course I will do so, Master Greybeards. My real purpose for visiting today is to...well...I've gotten word of dragons returning again. I haven't seen one yet, but the person I got the word from is sound. I...I thought that if dragons are coming back, then maybe Akatosh would send a Dragonborn to save us from them. I thought maybe I could be the Dragonborn and not know it."
The Masters eyes took a downward cast of sympathy at the dedicated guardswoman, who was no doubt as apprehensive as they were about the coming days. He said, "I'm sorry, fair guardswoman. You are not the one we wait for."
Her guard helmet dipped a bit. She said, "I knew that, deep down. I've been a guard all of my life so far, and probably will be for the rest of it. I always wanted to go on a real adventure, at least once. I guess this was just the excuse I needed to take leave time and go. B-but, you said I'm not the one. There's another, there's hope against these beasts?"
The master winced slightly at the final word of her question. He quickly recovered and said, "Yes. There is hope, but the Dragonborn has yet to answer the call to history. We have not heard their Thu'um yet, only small whispers on the wind, but we know they are out there."
The guardswoman nodded again. She said, "I will leave you be then, Masters. It was an honor to stand in yo-"
The main doors of the keep thundered open, and cursing came though along with the mountain wind. She didn't hesitate to turn around and draw steel on the intruders. Whoever would enter these halls so disrespectfully deserved her wrath, and she would not hesitate to die for these holy men. There would be no better a way for her to enter Sovngarde on her first and only adventure.
The voice said, "Fuck that's cold! My balls are literally a fucking vagina right now!"
Another voice said, "My Thane, I told y-"
"I don't care what you told me, I told you that no Housecarl of mine is eating that fucking cold without a cloak. I should have bought you one, I should have taken the time to make a hot stew, that's on me. Thank fuck someone cleared the path for us."
"Yes, my Thane."
"Jon!"
"Yes Thane Jon."
The lead Master heard the power undercutting the man's every word. He said, "It's okay guardswoman. You may be at rest. I assure you we can defend ourselves."
The guardswoman nodded and said, "Of course Master. I did not think that in the moment, and have sullied this place by insulting you and the Way of The Voice."
The Master chucked a bit. He said, "My friend, you have done no such thing. The ways of peace do not preclude one from defending oneself or others. Thank you for your dedication to us. It humbles us and warms our hearts."
Jon walked up to to a brazer and striped his cloak which would actually reflect the heat off him, and removed his hood. All saw the truth of his eyes. He said, "Wise words, Master Graybeard. I have seen and heard those who preach peace, yet refuse to understand that fact of life."
The guardswoman almost fainted. Her first adventure in her life and not only did she complete the Pilgrimage and speak to the Graybeards, she is meeting the Dragonborn in the flesh. She tried to kneel when Jon said, "Please! Do not do that. I'm not your god, nor do I want to be. Fuck, lets just get this out of the way, because it going to be relevant in about ten or so minutes. This is not a blessing. Not to me at least. I vowed that I would kill that fucking Worm when it butchered an innocent town in front of me, then Akatosh put a weapon in my hands so I could actually carry it out. That's what being the Dragonborn is to me. If Akatosh didn't want me thinking that way, he should have picked a different champion. I was a walking weapon even before I became whatever in the nine circles of Oblivion I became."
The guardswoman could only stand in awe. She had no words, but the Master did. He said, "So, the Dragonborn has appeared, at the turning of the age. Perhaps, guardswoman, you should return from the Pilgrimage. We must test the Dragonborn and his power."
She eagerly nodded. She said, "Yes, of course, Master. I might not survive that. Again, it was an extreme honor to stand before you all."
Jon said, "Hey, you cleared the path ahead of us. Even killed that frost troll, close quarters. That was impressive, the thing was disassembled. Take this for your troubles, flawless ruby, even to my dragon eyes. Do me a favor and try not to join my rapidly forming cult. I really don't want any kind of reverence or worship. I'm not Talos, the God-Emperor of man. I'm Jon, a foreign soldier from a different world, that has no business commanding the power he does. I prefer the title of Thane anyway, which I am."
She nodded again, her eye never leaving the Gem she was Given. She thought the whole thing silly, but this was now the greatest adventure of her life, if the only. She would do her best to head this holy man's words. She said, "Yes Thane. I wont even speak to a soul that I met you except my family and them their children to tell them of this Givenstone. I will leave you all."
The Graybeard had final words for her, "Guardswoman, if you ever wish to learn the Way of The Voice, then High Hrothgar is open to you. Please do not think this an obligation that forces you away from a life of worldly fulfillment. You are welcome at any time."
The guardswoman nodded before leaving. She didn't know if she would make the pilgrimage again, honestly. Part of her adventuring was to actually do it before having children with the smith she had her cold blue eyes on. His steel from his fire-salted forge is what let her hack that frost troll apart, and his arms were nearly as wide as the beast. She was going to him its tooth while wearing an amulet of Mara. It was a great honor to be invited to this place, but now she had an heirloom, a Divines blessed one, and it was her duty to pass on this artifact that would bring prosperity and power to her line. Honest power, perhaps, due to the honest and humble man that gave it to her. Maybe her adventure was really just starting, she thought.
The Master turned to Jon. He said, "Hail, Dragonborn. It is an honor to stand in your presence. I am Master Arngeir. I speak for the Greybeards."
Jon said, "Let me take a guess, the Way of The Voice prevents the others from talking. Like physically. Their whispers are power."
One of the Masters bowed and whispered, "Dovahkiin." And the walls of High Hrothgar shook in response.
Master Arngeir nodded eagerly, "Yes, Dragonborn. You are exceedingly intelligent to have such a grasp already as a man from another world, with no context at all perhaps."
Jon smiled with a humble nod, "Perhaps, but I still know nothing about this power, which is why I haven't used it. I also only know a single word of a single sentence. The Court Wizard of Whiterun, Farengar Secret-Fire directed me here. He said that you would call if you heard my Thu'um. I am Thane Jon, of House Noonien-Signh, and would prefer that title be used. I'm not trying to run from this, but I would be impeded from my quest if every Nord kneeled at my presence. I want a bit of anonymity so I can effectively operate."
Master Arngeir nodded, "Of course Thane Jon. My apologies. The Court Wizard was correct, we would have called you, and all of Skyrim would have heard. You are wise to think as you are, not using something you do not understand. You are also humble as well. The last actual Dragonborn to walk these lands was Talos Stormcrown, later Tiber Septim, and from Graybeard history he did not hide it from others as you are, and then became a Divine himself. Factually, his supreme arrogance was made physically manifest by holy providence, though it is never our place to actually question it." Jon took a good moment to laugh, and a moments break of self control of one of the other masters caused the walls to shake. If the Dovahkiin can laugh at the joke made at Talos's expense, so can they. Talos was said to have a good humor about him from their histories anyway.
The Master continued with a smile himself, "Talos had his reasons for doing what he did, however. It was a Pact with Akatosh, to light the Dragonfires, and protect Nirn and man from the continual machinations of others."
Jon said, "You seemingly weren't offended when I called this holy gift a weapon and nothing more."
Master Arngeir said, "As I said, it is not our place to question you, Thane Jon. You are the Dragonborn, Chosen of Akatosh. How or why you were chosen is also not our place to truly question. The rules of The Way do not apply to you. You needn't follow The Way at all. If the Thu'um is a weapon of war to you, then that is what it is. It is a gift from Kyne, goddess of the Storm, or Kynareth, after all. Specifically as a weapon against Dragonkind to throw off the shackles of their slavery, and now they have returned. Perhaps that is why you were chosen, why Talos, and Saint Alessia, and others were chosen. Because you are young warriors with the will to do what's necessary, and not old graybeards who sit upon a mountain to ponder peace."
Jon nodded for a thoughtful moment. He said, "I am not precluded from leaning some of the proclivities of The Way."
Another moments loss of control shook the walls. Master Arngeir said, "First we must test you. I will stand here, and I would like you to use the word you know against me. I assure you, I will be fine."
Jon nodded, "FUS!" and blue force swept from his mouth, pushing back the Graybeard a single step.
He was in awe, his very words now a weapon. He said, "Praise Kyne, I guess."
Master Arngeir bowed and said, "It is simply incredible the power you display on your first shout. That would have knocked down most others, man and beast. Only though my experience, I was not."
Jon nodded and said, "Thank you, Master. I know there are two more words. I heard them from the Worm. Roh, and Dah."
Master Arngeir said, "Ro, actually, and you are correct. The three words of power make up the Shout Unrelenting Force. You know what Fus means, I'm sure. Ro means balance, and Dah means push."
Jon thought for a moment. He said, "Newton's third law. Every force has an equal and opposite counter-force. Force meets push, and they need balance for it to work. Is that what it is? The two words against each other, and they both need balance to reach their maximum potential?"
Master Arngeir paused for a moment at the Dragonborn's natural grasp of the Thu'um before speaking. He said, "Yes, Dra-Thane Jon. It is with balance that force and push are in harmony, and resonate with one an other in your Thu'um. It is considered the most basic shout, but is exceedingly powerful in practiced hands."
Jon had to know. He asked, "How powerful."
The Master said, "You could shout the very bones of the world apart as a well practiced Dragonborn. Nothing would stand before you."
Jon was a walking planet-cracker, and he needed a moment to process that. The Master continued, "We will teach you the other two words of the shout, and then the first word of a new one. You have touched a word wall, we felt the whisper from it, it will work much like that. We will etch the words into the floor in front of you, then pass you our understanding of it."
Two other masters walked up, and their whispers carved the cold hard stone with dragon script. The power from the act then immediately flooded into Jon, one after the other. Then both the men bowed while more ethereal power flowed from them, directly into Jon.
Master Arngeir smiled, "To see the natural ability of a Dragonborn, it is the honor of an age, not just a lifetime. Please, come outside and we will test the full power of your Thu'um. We have a heavy cloak you may have and keep, made from mammoth hide as your Housecarl's is."
Jon accepted the cloak. It was the same dark gray as the Graybeard's robes, and it had the same stitching and patters on it was well. With it over his Elven cloak, they all stepped outside into the Skyrim freeze. Jon felt much better now, his under-cloak acting as a perfect insulator. It was the wind that was getting him on the way up.
Master Arngeir said, "The post you see before you is the test of a Graybeard Master. It is made with solid ebony, forged by dragon-fire. To take but a chip or dent from it shows you have mastered The Way as a mortal man. I can not accomplish the feat, but the others around me have, and you can see the history of the Greybeards upon it."
Jon asked, "What does that mean for you, other than being able to speak for the rest. Not completing the Way. Is it a choice? An honor? Penance?"
Master Arngeir was happy to tutor such a curious Dragonborn about the Graybeard ways. He said, "A choice and an honor. Those that speak for the Greybeards, are Masters of the order, if we are not Masters of The Way. I suppose there is a small penance there as well."
Jon nodded, "As I said, I am open to learning, but I will not complete The Way. I like to talk, obviously."
A moments loss of control shook the ground they stood on. Master Arngeir said, "We are more than happy to teach you what you wish to learn. When you are ready, Thane."
"FUS RO DAH!" And the column of solid dragon-forged alien metal blew apart.
Jon stood in awe again. His first full shout was more powerful than a Master who had dedicated their lives to it. He had no words. He didn't dare think what they could do.
After a minute, Master Arngeir said, "Are you all right, Thane?"
Jon only whispered, strands of power still leaking from his tongue, "Sorry. I know you're probably not mad about it, maybe even expected it, but I have to say it. I didn't mean to blow apart a sacred monument to your history."
Master Arngeir had a few tears in his eyes, "Dragonborn, the fact that you treat this power, and us, with such respect warms my cold bones greatly. You need not apologize. What you did not see what the sginfigant damage caused by Talos on the other side. Your Thu'um is even more powerful than his, without the training our order gave him."
Jon said, "That doesn't help much."
the master replied, "I know, but you are the perfect person to hold such power with how you conduct yourself with it, even if you only think it a weapon of war. Akatosh always chooses well, for one reason or another."
Jon nodded, "Weapons should be shown proper respect, for the power they hold and the damage they can cause. Only a fool or a madman wouldn't."
The Master said, "Wise indeed. Come, we will show you the first word of Whirlwind sprint. It is Wuld or whirlwind. It will propel you forward at great speed, and you will need it for your next trial."
One of the other masters etched a word into the courtyard and then passed his understanding. Jon looked at the script again and said, "Heh, shitty fucking copper merchants huh?"
Master Arngeir had a slight grin, with an inquisitorial look. Jon took a glanced at it and explained, "Back home. A little of my history. Our earliest writing looked like this dragon script. It was called cuneiform, and they used reeds on clay tablets instead of claws this is probably made from. Way back at the very beginning of written history, the time of Epics, there was a guy named Ea-nasir, a copper merchant. Not a very good one, apparently. He liked to store the complains that people had to go though a lot of effort to make and send to him. The complains about him survived, and were found, where most other writings and history turned to dust, because of his vanity. Now here I am, thousands of years later, on an alien world, continuing the to bitch about the quality this guy's copper, just like both he and his dissatisfied customers would want."
The Master nodded. With a serious tone he said, "Thank you for sharing that with us, Thane. A scoundrel, he sounds like. Not one ounce of copper we will buy from him." More than a moments loss of control shook the mountain. One soul fought with all of their might to retain it.
Jon said, "Alright, I'm ready."
The Master said, "Okay, we will open the gate, and you will use your Thu'um to traverse though it."
"WULD" and Jon broke the sound barrier though the rapidly closing gate.
He over compensated trying to prevent himself from from falling on his ass, and he fell on his face instead. Thankfully his weight and the snow arrested his slide far from the mountain edge. Lydia nearly jumped when she saw him slide.
He got up and Arngeir said, "Very good, Thane. You will get a feel for the balance required. I saw you try to compensate for the backslide that most succumb too their first time with the shout. Come back inside and we will speak of your last trial after a meal."
The Greybeards had taken Jon and Lydia back inside and to a conference room with a stone tables and seats. Jon offered the Greybeards their fill from his provisions, and all ate quietly for the time it took.
Jon said as he finished his own food, "So, the last trial. Another test?"
The Master nodded, "One to temper you with experience, as will all word walls you encounter. Your task is to retrieve the Horn of Jurgan Windcaller and return it to us. Doing so will complete the trials of the Dragonborn."
Jon asked, "I mean no disrespect, but is it specifically critical to defeating the Worm and his legions to retrieve this horn? What word is contained within?"
The Master said, "Normally I would not say, and normally we do not know what words are on walls we hear. We do know the word at Ustengrav, as it's a historical trial for the Dragonborn. However, given the acumen and deference you have displayed, despite your loud entrance, we will make an exception. It is the first word of Become Ethereal. It will make you into a ghostly form, and impervious to all damage. It simply will pass right though. It is also rumored to allow you to fall from great heights without harm, though none of us have tried."
Jon nodded. He said, "That would be useful, but I still need to get to the College. I need to properly learn magic."
The Master said, "I assure you Thane, the Thu'um is all you need to defeat your enemies."
Jon winced, "As a fool shows no respect to a weapon, they also trust only a single one. That's military training ingrained into me. You said I need tempered by experience, I agree. I take it these word walls are scattered everywhere right?"
The Master nodded. Jon continued, "Then I'll probably run into some though the College. I expect they do more than just study magic. Say, ancient Nord tombs that I know for a fact have walls in them. In fact, when I leave I'll be clearing one out before moving on. I bet that one has a wall in it too. Bottom line is, I cant shout every single enemy to death. I need other tools."
The Master nodded again, "You once again show your wisdom, Thane. You are most certainly are right, and I spoke out of place. You perhaps shouldn't use the Thu'um so freely, even if it is your prerogative to do so, as that is what led to Jurgan Wincaller's defeats. He was cursed by the gods for abuses of the Tongue before founding this order to study the ways of peace. You need technically not complete the trial anyway. As I said, the rules do not apply to you."
Jon asked, "What do you know of dragons? How long do you think I have before the Worm completes his whole eat the world plot?"
The Master said, "I can not say for certain, Thane."
"Guess."
The Master thought for a moment before saying, "Dragons are slow and ponderous creatures. Time is meaningless for them. Centuries or more is but a blink of their eyes. Unless a Dragonborn like you rips their souls from them, then they are never truly dead. They are the children of Akatosh, the Lord of Time, and thus immortal while in tune of the flows of time well past what we can perceive. I suspect that if Alduin is moving quickly, you may have as much as a couple years while he sets his machinations in motion, and gathers power. If he is moving very quickly, several months. But these are only poor guesses."
Jon nodded and said, "Alright. I don't think I'll spend long at the college. I just need a better understanding of magic, and more powerful spells. Maybe some leads on powerful artifacts that can hurt dragons, so I can get them in the right peoples' hands to defend themselves. Couple weeks or so. Month maximum. When I'm done there, I will retrieve and return your Horn to you, thus completing my trials. Now, final questions Masters. First, Why is every conversation feel like a battle? Especially haggling unless I'm given discount right off the bat."
The Master replied, "There is no distinction between combat and conversation for a Dovah. The Words of Power are words after all. Think of battles between Dovah to be very spirited debates, with life and death as the stakes of its' outcome."
Jon nodded, "Last question. What. Am. I. I'm constantly on the verge of panic attacks here, and I assure you that is very hard to induce in my kind. My kind being Augments, quote unquote superior men and women. I was conceived in a laboratory by an Arch-Alchemist, along with the rest of us. Long story short, we're super-soldiers. Am I a dragon? Am I an Augment? Both? Neither?"
The Master nodded and said, "It is no wonder your Thu'um is so naturally powerful, being made superior as you are by powerful alchemy. You are a Dovah, in the form of a man. Yet you are also still mostly what your were. It is your dragon soul that matters. Talos was still a Nord, though his hot dragon blood made him sturdier than most, if not all. The original Pact to light the Dragonfires was actually with his dying mother. She prayed to Akatosh for salvation, to see her son grow up, and gave her first born to him so she could be saved during his birth. They were at small inn with no healers around. A life for a life, is what it was. Her life saved for his life in service to the will of Akatosh. We know of this because Talos sent her here to convalesce in her final years, and keep her safe from the War of The Second Age. She actually learned Unrelenting Force before she passed."
Jon asked, "And what about me? I was not Dovah until I took that dragon's soul. The eyes make it obvious."
The Master said, "Perhaps you were not. The soul may have been dormant in you, waiting for the right moment to take hold, such as slaying your first dragon. Akatosh is the Lord of Time, and you are not the first to make a Pact with him later in life. What I can guarantee, is that you have held that soul from the moment of your creation."
Jon nodded slowly. What effect did this 'blessing' have on the trajectory of his life? Was it always because of a temporal paradox that he was the way he was? Is he really just the same as them without literal Divine intervention? He didn't know, and this conversation did not help.
Jon whispered, "Thank you, Master Graybeards. May we stay here the night?"
Every Master nodded their assent in the council-chambers.