Tales of the First Era: Dragonborn

by Blackvvater

As the Nordic Empire is torn apart by civil war and an elven rebellion foments in the east, a hunter on the island of Solstheim discovers that he has the power to reshape Tamriel... or doom it entirely.

16. Chapter 16: Paarthurnax

Chapter 16

Paarthurnax

It was nearly sunset by the time that Vahkiir finally managed to heave his weary body the rest of the way up the mountain to the summit of the Throat of the World. By then, he was openly gasping for breath, both from the sheer exertion of reaching the peak, and from how dangerously thin the air had become. Each breath was a struggle, and his lungs felt as though they were aflame as he leaned heavily on his makeshift staff, which was the only thing preventing him from pitching forward into the snow.

The sole saving grace about the rest of the climb was that, as Paarthurnax had said, there were no other obstacles to contend with. The troll had been the last threat he had faced, and only an open path of stairs remained before him. That, however, was more than enough of a challenge in and of itself, as every step felt heavier than the last, and towards the end of the climb, he had begun silently cursing the stairs that he had once thought a blessing, as they had seemed endless. He could imagine their builders laughing at his futile efforts to reach the top of the mountain, even with their help.

Now, however, as he looked up and realized that there was no mountain left to climb, he felt a renewed vigor warm his weary limbs. Though he was no less exhausted, he nevertheless managed to find the strength to trudge forward through the deep snow towards the figure waiting for him in the distance.

Paarthurnax was perched atop a deep grey wall, which had runes carved upon its surface. As Vahkiir drew nearer, he recognized the gash-like markings as the draconic language. However, from this far back, none of the words seemed to call to him the way the wall on Solstheim had… and his attention was drawn more towards the beast crouching on the wall anyways.

As Vahkiir staggered towards him, Paarthurnax tilted his head back and watched him intently, as though silently judging him. When he was a few feet away, Paarthurnax suddenly said, "Halt."

Vahkiir stopped short inhaling sharply for breath before raising his head to glare up at the dragon. "So… I have come all this way," he hissed as he clutched the staff with both hands and panted. "Tell me what you want."

"Drem, wunduniik," Paarthurnax growled, his voice rumbling across the snowy plain. "First, there are certain rituals that must be observed."

"I have no patience for your rituals, dragon!" Vahkiir barked, before he was suddenly seized by a coughing fit. He wheezed for breath as Paarthurnax watched him disdainfully, but when he raised his head again, he managed to glare defiantly up at the grey dragon.

"Hm… you have the yol of a Dovahkiin, if naught else," Paarthurnax remarked drily as he flared his wings in a way that made Vahkiir suspect that he was irritated. "And vothaarn. Nevertheless, it has been some time since I last held tinvaak with another, and as you are my guest, huzrah uthi. We will address one another as dovah… as it is your sos… your blood." The dragon then sneered contemptuously. "Or, if you prefer, mu tinvaak ol in ahrk zaam… as a master speaks to his thrall."

Vahkiir bristled, blood rising in his face. "Very well," he growled irritably as he leaned forward on his staff. "What would you have me do?"

"As the elder, I will speak first, and you will listen," Paarthurnax said, stretching his wings and tilting his head back. "If you are truly dov, you must endure my thu'um."

Vahkiir felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. "Is… that wise?" he asked slowly as the dragon raised itself up. "The thu'um is a weapon, yes? Surely we should not greet one another by exchanging blows!"

Paarthurnax stared at Vahkiir for a long moment, then sighed and shook his head with disappointment. "Is that what you have been told?" the dragon asked. "No. Though a hammer may be used as zun, a weapon, it is meant to be a tool. So too is the thu'um. It is not a mere zahkrii, a blade to be wielded with rahgol ahrk bah, with bloodlust, to murder your enemies. No… it is so much more. Used properly, it can be more powerful than a storm… or as gentle as a breeze. Allow me to show you."

The dragon leaned forward and inhaled sharply. Before Vahkiir could react, it shouted, "YOL TOOR SHUL!" A stream of fire rushed towards him, and Vahkiir instinctively flinched, holding his hands up in a vain attempt to ward off the flames. To his surprise, however, while the flames did burn his skin slightly, they mostly swirled around his body. What's more, as they touched his skin, they seemed to invigorate his weary body, washing away the cold that had left him half-numb and bringing fresh, warm air into his lungs. When the stream of fire faded, he felt flushed with power and warmth.

Paarthurnax chuckled faintly at his expression as he stared down at himself in wonder. "A novice would think those rotmulaag, those Words of Power, merely allow one to command fire," the dragon explained, leaning forward on his winged arms. "However, fire does not merely scorch and sear. It staves off the winter krah. It brings vigor and laas. Even a fus as destructive as raw flame can be used to heal. Do you begin to understand? Only fools seek the raw, destructive power of the thu'um alone."

"It… was a most effective demonstration, yes," Vahkiir admitted, lowering his hands.

Paarthurnax nodded. "Good. Heed my uth. Greet me, not as a man, but as dov. Meyz! Show me your mightiest thu'um!"

Vahkiir resisted the urge to chuckle. After all, he knew only a single Shout, and he was beginning to suspect that he had not even fully mastered that. All the other Shouts he had heard were comprised of three words, while he knew only two. However, he was not about to argue with the dragon any further.

Inhaling deeply, Vahkiir let the mountain air hang in his lungs for a long moment as he focused on Paarthurnax. The power of his Shout built within him for a moment, and then he yelled, "FUS RO!" He watched as the air bent outward from his mouth, striking the dragon's scaly hide. For a brief moment, Vahkiir felt a perverse pleasure as the dragon seemed to flinch slightly under the force of his Shout. That elation lasted only a split second, however, as the dragon then lowered its wing and shook its head, seeming completely unharmed.

"Hm… curious," Paarthurnax rumbled thoughtfully as he swiveled his massive head away to stare off into the distance. "You clearly possess the talent of a Dovahkiin… and I can also feel the bahlok in your Shout." He then turned back slightly, giving Vahkiir a sidelong glance. "However, your suleyk is… unremarkable as far as Dovahkiin are concerned. Compared to your predecessors, you are not the weakest, but you are far from the strongest." He chuckled, apparently amused. "It seems that I have summoned a mediocre Dovahkiin."

Vahkiir narrowed his eyes, anger burning in his chest. "So you demanded I climb all this way simply to mock me?!" he snapped.

"Drem, Dovahkiin," Paarthurnax growled. "Calm yourself. I did not know your suleyk when you first approached me. It is nigh impossible to know the mulaag of a dov without exchanging the thu'um, which is why we greet each other this way – it helps to establish who is rel, who dominates whom, which dictates the etiquette of conversations, and prevents unnecessary grah." He then tilted his head back and forth. "And there is something surprising about the… 'scent' of your Shout."

"And that is?" Vahkiir asked impatiently.

"There is surprisingly little sos in it, whether joore or dovah," Paarthurnax said thoughtfully. "Few have died by your hand, it seems."

Vahkiir stared at the dragon, his arms crossed over his chest and an irritated look on his face. "You speak as though you were expecting me to be a wanton murderer," he said coldly.

A low, rumbling growl echoed through Paarthurnax' throat. "If you are aware of the tey – the tales – of your predecessors, you should understand why I am surprised," he replied in a low voice.

Vahkiir sighed heavily. "Have I completed your ritual?" he asked curtly.

"You have. I greet you as a fellow dov," Paarthurnax replied, lowering his massive head, as though in greeting. "You are welcome in my junaar."

"Good. Now, I would have you answer my question," Vahkiir pressed through gritted teeth. "Why have you summoned me?"

Paarthurnax exhaled heavily through his nostrils, causing a brief puff of mist to hang in the air in front of his face. "In truth, I first summoned you to assess you," the dragon said in a low voice. "To determine whether you might be a danger, or a threat. Your journey to reach me was your trial."

Vahkiir narrowed his eyes, his muscles coiling. "To determine whether I was a threat to you?" he demanded.

Paarthurnax narrowed his eyes dangerously, and Vahkiir unconsciously took a step back from the dragon. "In part," he growled. "Ahrk fin lein. I also wished to learn if you might threaten Nirn itself."

Vahkiir unfolded his arms, and one hand drifted behind him, towards his bow. "And if I was?" he snarled back, his fingers closing around the thin wood. "Did you intend to kill me?"

Paarthurnax let out another warning growl, and Vahkiir felt his hand starting to tremble. Abruptly, his bow began to feel like little more than a very thin piece of wood in the face of the increasingly angry dragon before him. "If need be," Paarthurnax hissed. As he spoke, he flared his wings and raised his body up so that he was towering over Vahkiir from his perch atop the broken wall. "For instance, if you were fool enough to attack me. Sosu ag fah grah. Our blood calls us to battle, Dovahkiin. It would take little to convince me to fight you, if you wished it. Mu yah suleyk ahrk lah. We seek to dominate other dovah, and we crave power over our kin." He nodded to the bow on Vahkiir's back. "So… if you wish to krif, draw your zun. I shall happily indulge you." He then folded his wings against his side again. "But know also that I did not call you here to do battle, and I shall not strike first."

At the dragon's words, Vahkiir suddenly realized how tense he had become, how eager he was to meet Paarthurnax in battle… and as he did, he also recognized, once again, how much his bloodlust unnerved him. He forced himself to take a long, slow breath of the cold mountain air, and with it, the heat rushing through his veins seemed to cool. "Forgive me," he murmured.

Paarthurnax let out a low growl, but it had a deeper tone than the ones he had let out previously, making it sound as though he was pleased. "Pruzah. Good," Paarthurnax said, lowering his head and folding his wings again. "As I thought. Bonaar, fah Dovahkiin. You are not as ruled by your wrath and arrogance as other Dovahkiin were in the past. Ni mey. Your predecessors may have been fool enough to attack me, especially once they had garnered more power… but not you. Perhaps it is onikaan that stays your hand… or perhaps faas. Regardless, this is good. Tinvaak, ni faas. Let us speak freely with each other, and have no more talk of battle."

Vahkiir stared at the dragon as he folded his arms over his chest again, partially to ward off another gust of frigid wind as it blew over him. "You said that you summoned me here to assess me, but that you did not wish to fight me," he said, narrowing his eyes. "So then, other than to determine whether I was a threat, was there any other reason you wished to speak with me?"

Paarthurnax let out another low chuckle. "Onik. Yes," he replied, turning his gaze towards the sky. "Zu'u fent ov hin. Your insight and restraint has led me to believe that I can trust you with this knowledge, Dovahkiin. Though, in truth, I also believe I have little choice. Dez nis dir. It is not as though I can stop the tides of fate."

"What are you talking about?" Vahkiir demanded.

Paarthurnax sighed heavily and looked back down. "Tell me, Dovahkiin… have you heard the prophecy of the return of Alduin?"

Vahkiir stared at him blankly. "I do not even know who Alduin is," he admitted.

Paarthurnax nodded slowly. "Nol naktiid. Then I shall start from the beginning. Long ago, the dovah ruled Skyrim as thur, as overlords of the mortal races. Munax tiid. They were dark, cruel times for your ancestors, as men and mer alike were naught more than our zaam – thralls, in your tongue. Yet even as we carved out our individual junaar, there was one we all bowed to, who was mightier than any of us – Alduin, the firstborn of Juntiid, or Akatosh as the joore call him.

"Alduin was a peerless master of the thu'um, and was fiercer than any of us in a fight. More importantly, however, he had been assigned an important task by our bormah, Akatosh – a sacred task that none of us would dare hinder. His role was to devour this world at the appointed tiid, so that a new world could be born in its place."

Vahkiir's eyes suddenly widened with horror. "Thartaag," he whispered.

Paarthurnax tilted his head curiously. "What?"

"Thartaag, the World-Devourer," Vahkiir said. He noticed that his voice was quavering slightly. "My people, the Skaal, tell tales of Thartaag. They say that he is an aspect of the Adversary, and that he will come at the End of Seasons to consume the world, leaving naught but darkness in his wake."

Paarthurnax glanced up at the sky thoughtfully. "Zu'u koraav. That does seem a great deal like Alduin. Perhaps this tey of your people cast my zeymah – my brother – in another form. If so, then so much the better. It means that you know of him… and recognize the dire threat that he poses. Or… posed, I should say."

Vahkiir took a slow breath, then looked up again. "You speak as though he is dead," he remarked.

"Dilon? Niid," Paarthurnax said, shaking his head. When Vahkiir looked at him curiously, he continued, "Allow me to explain. While Juntiid did assign Alduin to consume the world at the appointed time, my zeymah forsook his task. Instead, he chose to rule the world as munax jun – a cruel king without equal." A bitter chuckle escaped his throat. "Ironic. Rok nikron sos. Though he was the greatest of the dovah, nigh divine, even he could not conquer his nature, his inherent desire to dominate. Worse, he held unslaad laas – he was immortal, as all dovah are. Thus, we could not simply wait for him to die, as you joore can with your tyrants."

Vahkiir frowned slightly. "Yet… I thought that Dragonborn can slay dragons," he pointed out. "Was there no Dragonborn that you could call upon to fight him?"

"Niid. Well…." Paarthurnax hesitated, his expression turning distant. "There was perhaps one who might have stood against him… though even then I am uncertain if he would have triumphed." He then shook his head. "But even when his aid was requested, he refused. It is said that he was the first Dovahkiin, and that he was both the mightiest and most arrogant of all of your kind. He was more concerned with conquering his own junaar and amassing suleyk than concerning himself with the predations of Alduin."

Vahkiir felt his blood run cold. "Miraak," he whispered.

Paarthurnax let out a low growl, though it did not seem threatening – rather, it seemed merely directed at the name itself. "You know of him," the dragon commented.

"It is because of him that I was exiled from my home," Vahkiir murmured. "Rest assured, though I know of only his name and his deeds, I have no love for him."

Paarthurnax nodded slowly. "With good reason, it seems," he rumbled softly. "Ful. Because there was no Dovahkiin who would slay Alduin, we had to devise another way to defeat him. I was personally horrified and disgusted by my zeymah. Nax ahrk krentheyv. He was both unspeakably cruel, and he had forsaken his oath to Juntiid. I chose to stand against him, and some dovah rallied to my side. However, we were too few, and Alduin too mighty. We could not overthrow him alone, so we sought another means to end his tyranny.

"The answer lay in mez –the very men we had enslaved," Alduin explained, leaning forward a bit more. Sahlo, mindoraan. Your kind were weak, far weaker than dovah… but you were clever, and you had the ability to learn. These two traits made even men who were not Dovahkiin dangerous to Alduin. Your ancestors were beneath his notice, yet capable of learning the thu'um, albeit with great difficulty. Thus, I was able to convince a few men and women to join my side, and I taught them the thu'um in secret. When their training was complete, I issued my challenge to Alduin, and we confronted him at the peak of this strunmah, very near where you now stand. Here, they weakened Alduin in battle, then used a kel – an Elder Scroll – to banish him into vennesetiid – the currents of time."

Vahkiir stared at Paarthurnax blankly. "What does that mean?" he asked.

Paarthurnax let out a soft laugh. "It means that he was removed from our world and sent to swim the Rathsetiid – the River of Time. He is now as a piece of driftwood among the currents, unable to control his course until the River allows him to wash ashore. More importantly, so long as he is in the river, he cannot threaten this world."

"So he was defeated," Vahkiir pointed out. "Then why do you seem worried?"

Paarthurnax shook his head. "He was not defeated, for he is not dilon," the dragon corrected him. "The terror he unleashed upon this world has been… delayed, perhaps. But he will return one day."

"Ah. Then do you know when?" Vahkiir asked. "If so, then I suppose you could prepare for his arrival."

Paarthurnax sighed. "Alas… dez gram. Fate is unclear. The Elder Scroll did not speak of when Alduin would return… only that he would one day. Though it did provide us with cryptic signs that would foretell his reappearance."

Vahkiir tapped his fingers impatiently on his bicep. "And those are?"

Paarthurnax rested back on his talons and tilted his head back. "We preserved the Scroll's warning in verse, so that it was simple to remember:

Ahrk fin Kel lost prodah
Do vedviing ko fin krah
Tol fod zehmah win kein mez fun dein!
Alduin, feyn do jun, kru ziik vokun staadnau
Voth aan baaalok wah diivon fin lein!"

Vahkiir stared at him blankly. "That means nothing to me, as I cannot understand the tongue of the dragons," he pointed out drily.

Paarthurnax chuckled faintly as he looked back down. "Krosis. Forgive me. Your ancestors did translate the verse into your tongue. If I recall, it went:

And the Scrolls have foretold, of black wings in the cold,
That when brothers wage war come unfurled!
Alduin, Bane of Kings, ancient shadow unbound,
With a hunger to swallow the world!"

Vahkiir sighed sharply, growing increasingly frustrated with the dragon's cryptic responses. "And why should that matter?" he demanded.

Paarthurnax let out a snort of annoyance. "Koraav, wunduniik. Have you not roamed Skyrim, Dovahkiin?" he asked, not bothering to mask the irritation in his voice. "Tell me, does this junaar seem a united land to you?"

Vahkiir hesitated, his eyes widening with realization. "So… you fear that the prophecy that the Scrolls spoke of…."

Paarthurnax hummed, lowering his massive head slightly. "Motmahus qostiid. The Scrolls did not foretell when Alduin would return… only that he would do so during a time of great strife. Zeymah krif zeymah. The land of Skyrim is currently embroiled in a war with itself, is it not? Thus, would it not be reasonable to assume that Alduin might soon reappear?"

Vahkiir felt a chill run across his spine, and he doubted the cold wind was to blame for it. "And if Skyrim was unprepared…."

"Yes. Sahlo junaare mah. What better time for Alduin to strike than when Skyrim is at its weakest?" Paarthurnax agreed. "Furthermore, there is the fact that you, a mortal with the soul of a dov, have appeared." The dragon rolled his neck slightly. "The verse I shared also speaks of a Dovahkiin who would vanquish Alduin once and for all."

The chill running down Vahkiir's back grew more intense. "So… you believe that it is my destiny to defeat Alduin?" he whispered.

"I cannot say for certain," Paarthurnax admitted. "The Kelle are unclear even to those who have studied them for years, and I am no scholar of their prophecies. There are, however, too many coincidences for me to dismiss the possibility entirely. That is why I have summoned you here, Dovahkiin."

Vahkiir swallowed hard and shook his head. "But… surely the Scrolls must be mistaken!" he protested.

"Perhaps," Paarthurnax agreed. "In truth, I hope that they are, or else that we are misinterpreting the signs. Nevertheless, it would be foolish of us to ignore them outright. Thus, I wished to bring you here, to share my knowledge with you, and to prepare you for the possibility that Alduin might return." He then seemed to smirk slightly. "However… there is another possibility."

"And that is?" Vahkiir prompted.

"Kelle lost pogaan miir. My zeymah has yet to reappear," Paarthurnax explained. "Thus, it is possible that while the prophecy may come to pass, it has not, and thus may yet be prevented. If so, it would be wise of us to take steps to ensure that Alduin's return does not come to pass… and you may play a key role in doing so."

Vahkiir took a slow breath, his head spinning. He hardly knew what to make of any of this. "Why do you believe that I must be the one to prevent this?" he asked slowly. "Are there no other Dragonborn?"

"Nis mindok. None that I am personally aware of, though there may in fact be others apart from you," Paarthurnax explained. "However, there is one simple reason that I am sharing this information with you, not them." When Vahkiir stared at him silently, Paarthurnax chuckled. "Hi meyz. You answered my call. They did not."

"So I am the only option you have available," Vahkiir retorted drily. "Mediocre though I am, as you have said."

"It is more than that," Paarthurnax replied. "Kelle dreh ni nok, nuz kos ni golz. The Elder Scrolls foretell prophecy and destiny, but the actors in their prophecies are not always set in stone. Therefore, while there were other Dovahkiin in the past, and there may yet be more even in the present, only you responded to the summons for a Dovahkiin. Therefore, it falls upon you to fulfill the prophecy of the Elder Scrolls… or, otherwise, perhaps you are the only one who may be freed from it."

Vahkiir stared at Paarthurnax, then shook his head with a groan. "This is unspeakably confusing," he muttered.

Paarthurnax let out a roaring laugh. When Vahkiir looked up to glare at him, the dragon added, "Kelle kos. You are not alone in that belief, Dovahkiin. Scholars have pondered the mysteries of the Elder Scrolls for ages, yet few have successfully divined them… and fewer still have made sense of the revelations they did receive. Therefore, I would suggest that you not trouble yourself with the fine points of their revelations, and instead simply prepare as best you can for what may come."

Vahkiir shivered as another gust of wind blew across the mountain. "So if you would prevent Alduin's return… what would you have me do?" he asked.

Paarthurnax shook his head. "I am no seer. The future is as unclear to me as it is to you. Dez grind. However… you may have already met the potential qolaas of Alduin's return."

Vahkiir blinked, then narrowed his eyes. "Vokrijun?" he asked.

Paarthurnax hummed. "Indeed. That one is an enigma, even to me. He garbs himself in the guise of a Sonaak, a Dragon Priest, yet…."

"Dragon Priest?" Vahkiir asked.

Paarthurnax nodded slowly. "In ages past, when dragons ruled Nirn, we did not trouble ourselves with the minutiae of tending to our domains. Certainly, we desired slaves and subjects, but only insofar as they were fiike of our power. Brit, nuz sahlo. We displayed them as a jun wears jewels, as marks of our power and prestige, but we cared little for their wellbeing. After all, we were immortal beings. What care did we have for harvests, for birthings, for the planning of cities? Such details meant little to us, as they did not affect us. We would not starve if a harvest failed, nor suffer if a house was destroyed. Zaame raal. However, if our slaves perished, our own status would diminish, so we did have at least a passing interest in ensuring that you mortals survived.

"To that end, we selected mortals that were clever, ambitious, and most importantly, fiercely loyal to us, and we elevated them above their peers. We granted them a sliver of authority, which they could use to make minor decisions on our behalf. They, in turn, were tasked with ensuring our slaves lived, and were working to further our glory. These individuals were known as Sonaak, Dragon Priests, as they worshipped us like gods, and guided our slaves to do the same."

Vahkiir frowned deeply. "But… you said that this was long ago? When you ruled Skyrim?" he asked.

"Yes," Paarthurnax murmured thoughtfully. "While there are still some Sonaak who have staved off death through profane means, meyz unslaad diil – transforming themselves into vile undead creatures whose devotion to their masters has endured throughout the centuries – this Vokrijun does not seem to be one of them. Nust kos nahlaas. I can smell his blood, hear his heart… he walks among the living. He also seems to be young – as young as you, Dovahkiin."

Vahkiir stared at Paarthurnax, utterly confused. "But… is he a Dragon Priest?" he asked.

"Zu'u dreh ni mindok," Paarthurnax growled in frustration. "If he truly is, I cannot say for certain which master he serves, nor to what end. We dovah no longer rule great realms, so I do not know what one of my kin might have promised him in exchange for his service. It may even be that he is merely a misguided fool who is only masquerading as a Sonaak." The grey dragon shook his massive head irritably. "Regardless, I fear he may be the harbinger of Alduin's arrival."

"Why? Did he ask you something before I arrived?" Vahkiir asked. When Paarthurnax turned to regard him with a look of surprise, he pointed out, "You said that you had spoken to him once before, and that you had denied him whatever request he asked of you. I assume it was in regards to Alduin?"

Paarthurnax stared at him for a long moment, then let out a low chuckle. "Kinzon. Perceptive of you, Dovahkiin. Yes… that one did indeed approach me, asking if he might be allowed to reach the naar of Monahven, my strunmah."

"To what end?" Vahkiir pressed.

Paarthurnax let out a low rumble, looking away. He almost seemed to be pondering whether to share any more with Vahkiir. "Kelle wahlaan ahraantiid…When the men who banished Alduin used the Elder Scroll, they opened a… a wound in time. The magic they wielded runs counter to the fabric of this world and the tenets that were established following the chaos of the Dawn Age." When Vahkiir stared at him blankly, Paarthurnax shook his head. "Think of it as opening a deep gash in the flesh of the world. Though it was necessary, it was still traumatic, and even after it healed, their actions left a scar."

"And Vokrijun wished to see this… wound, because…?" Vahkiir asked.

Paarthurnax shook his head. "Zu'u dreh ni mindok. His purpose eludes me, and I can only speculate," the dragon admitted. "However, given that he wears the garb of a Dragon Priest, I can only assume that whatever his ambitions, they are tied to Alduin."

"But you did not let him visit the site of the wound?" Vahkiir asked pointedly.

Paarthurnax shook his head with a low growl. "Zu'u dein ahraan. Guarding the wound is my single most important task. Of course I would not allow him to come any closer… especially without invitation," he added, his growl deepening as he snarled at the memory.

Vahkiir nodded slowly. Then a thought struck him. "But… where did he obtain knowledge of this wound?" he asked.

Paarthurnax tilted his head. "That… is a fair question," he mused. "And one that I cannot answer. It may be that he learned an ancient song telling of the deeds of the heroes who defeated Alduin. Perhaps a descendant of theirs informed him, or perhaps he is descended from one of those heroes." After a moment's thought, he added in a softer tone, "Or… perhaps he has obtained an Elder Scroll, and the events of that day were revealed to him."

Vahkiir felt a shiver run through his body. "Where would he obtain such an Elder Scroll?" he asked quietly.

To that, Paarthurnax exhaled sharply through his nostrils. "Gein nis dein kelle mahfaeraak. The Scrolls are fickle objects. Though many have tried to collect them, none have ever succeeded in amassing a complete archive of them. It would not be surprising that he may have encountered a Scroll in his travels, or even that some Aedra or Daedra gifted one to him as a reward. It matters little."

"But if he did have a Scroll, how dangerous would that be?" Vahkiir asked.

Paarthurnax let out a grim chuckle. "Wah mindok los suleyk. Only as dangerous as the knowledge that it holds… and whether he could even obtain it," he replied. "One cannot simply open an Elder Scroll and read it like any other tey. Divining the Scrolls requires training, and it is always taxing on the reader. However, if one knows a method to read them, the knowledge will always come, and it will always be accurate, even if the reader does not fully understand it himself. To that end, the danger lies in what Vokrijun has learned, and how he chooses to use said knowledge. It may be as innocuous as learning a bit of history or a meaningless future event, or it may be as dire as learning a method to unravel the fabric of reality itself. I cannot say for certain."

Vahkiir exhaled slowly. He was beginning to shiver, both from the grim conversation he was holding with the dragon, and from the fading Yol Shout that Paarthurnax had blessed him with. "Either way, it seems that it might be prudent to ask him myself," he remarked.

Paarthurnax let out a low hum. "That would not be an unwise course of action," he agreed. "'Meyz tinvaak.' Since he has already invited you to speak with him, you need not even approach him as an enemy. In truth, he may not even be an enemy… though I would remain on guard either way."

"As I should with you?" Vahkiir asked pointedly, narrowing his eyes at the dragon.

Paarthurnax snarled, revealing his rows of long, pointed teeth, but when Vahkiir stared at him defiantly, the dragon then began to chuckle. "As you should," he agreed, though his tone was more amused than threatening. "After all, no dov should fully trust another."

"Yet you are placing a great deal of faith in me," Vahkiir pointed out.

Paarthurnax inclined his head. "I am. Partially because I believe that you understand that the threat Alduin poses is greater than the threat that I pose, partially because I have freely given you aid and you do not appear to be an ungrateful cretin, and partially because even dov ally with one another, and even aid one another, when a greater threat looms. Therefore, I am willing to ally with you, Dovahkiin… though that does not mean that I trust you, any more than you trust me."

"How comforting," Vahkiir muttered. Then he sighed. "But… I suppose that I have grown used to working with others that I cannot trust."

"Then this should be a familiar situation for you," Paarthurnax remarked drily. When Vahkiir turned to glare at him, he let out a soft laugh.

"Is that all, then?" Vahkiir demanded impatiently.

"Not yet," Paarthurnax replied. He pushed himself up and stretched his neck, then looked down at Vahkiir again. "Laan. I have one more question for you. When you greeted me with your thu'um, you only spoke two rotmulaag. Tell me – were you holding back, or have you only learned those two words?"

Vahkiir narrowed his eyes, wondering if the dragon was mocking him. "Forgive me if I have not had time to study the thu'um in great detail during my travels," he muttered.

Paarthurnax nodded. "I see," he replied, pushing himself off of the wall that he was crouching on. "In that case, I will offer you a gift. Zu'u koraav hin krif. I watched your battle with that beast near the summit of my mountain. It is clear to me that Vokrijun's knowledge of the thu'um far outmatches your own, and even if you, as a Dovahkiin, have more raw potential, you will be no match for him should you come to blows. In a duel using the thu'um, the one with greater knowledge will always emerge the victor."

Vahkiir frowned at Paarthurnax. "Perhaps, but I do not have time to hunt down additional words-" he began.

"Silence," Paarthurnax interrupted, though his tone was not unkind. Nevertheless, Vahkiir's protest died in his throat. "You are correct – while Dovahkiin do master the thu'um far more swiftly than other mortals, you would need to krii dozens of dragons and travel across Skyrim to learn additional rotmulaag if you wished to truly call yourself a master. Such an endeavor would take months to complete."

"Then what-?" Vahkiir asked impatiently.

"Fortunately," Paarthurnax continued, talking over him, "I am willing to offer you a gift – the final Word of Power to augment fus."

Vahkiir's jaw snapped shut. Then he asked, "But… how?"

"There is an ancient technique that allows a dovah to impart knowledge to one that they trust," Paarthurnax explained as he lumbered over to Vahkiir and began tracing a design in the snow before him with one long claw. "By crafting a rune and infusing a bit of our soul into it, we can share our wisdom with another." He paused as he looked up and noticed a greedy look in Vahkiir's eye. "However," he continued, his voice lowering to a growl. "It is not a technique that I use lightly. Surrendering a part of our soul is akin to bleeding ourselves, so it is not done without dire need. If you believe that I will share every rotmulaag I know with you, you are sorely mistaken. I am only offering you this gift because you have already walked most of the path of fus, and because we are pressed for time. I will not present you with this gift again… especially if you prove yourself ungrateful," he added, his tail flicking with irritation as he glared down at Vahkiir.

Vahkiir swallowed, and he felt heat rising in his face as guilt and shame washed over him. "I… forgive me," he murmured, lowering his eyes contritely.

Paarthurnax considered him for a long moment, then grunted and looked down at the mark that he had scratched in the snow. "Dah!" he whispered.

A golden nimbus escaped his mouth and struck the mark in the snow, which began to glow brightly. Vahkiir looked up and stared at it intently as a thrumming sound filled the air around him, and his skin began to buzz with energy.

Paarthurnax let out a low rumble as settled back on his talons, his tail swishing slowly behind him and sweeping the loose snow into small piles. "Now, Dovahkiin," he said, raising his head imperiously. "When we first met, your greeting was unworthy of a dov. It was incomplete and weak. Show me the strength of your thu'um, and greet me properly!"

Vahkiir looked up, a slight grin spreading across his face. As he inhaled sharply, a new strength seemed to spread through his limbs, warming him and reviving his tired body. He stared at Paarthurnax intently, allowing his burning desire to establish dominance over the dragon to sweep over him, and then he shouted at the top of his lungs, "FUS RO DAH!"

His voice echoed across the mountain as the air in front of his mouth erupted with gale-like winds. He watched, fascinated, as a torrent of air swept across the snowy plains and collided with the flank of the grey dragon before him. Paarthurnax let out a grunt as the force of his Shout sent him skidding across the snowy ground, propelling him backwards for several feet until he collided with the wall. Fortunately, it did not buckle under the weight of his massive bulk, but Vahkiir was pleased to see that the dragon was forced to dig his talons deep into the ice and snow until he could regain his balance.

Paarthurnax growled as the Shout dissipated and he managed to climb to a more stable four-legged stance, and then he lumbered back over to Vahkiir. Vahkiir's smug grin faded as the dragon towered over him, his eyes burning with fury, and for a terrifying moment, he wondered if Paarthurnax was about to retaliate. He inhaled more air to prepare another Shout, but he suddenly found himself winded and breathe in deeply enough to use his thu'um again. His heart stopped as the dragon lowered his massive head to stare intently at Vahkiir, and he opened his jaws… only to let out a bellowing laugh that sent Vahkiir tumbling into the snow behind him.

"Pruzah!" the dragon exclaimed, his laughter becoming even more boisterous as Vahkiir glared up at him from where he had fallen on his backside. "Very good. That was a greeting worthy of the dovah." He shook his head, a look of wonder in his eyes. "It never ceases to amaze how swiftly you Dovahkiin learn the thu'um, at least for joore. A mere look at the rune and a taste of a dovah's soul, and you immediately master a technique that takes the rest of your kind much of their pitifully short lives to learn. Truly, my father has a strange sense of humor."

"I'm glad you're amused," Vahkiir muttered as he pushed himself up and brushed the snow off of his trousers. When Paarthurnax continued to chuckle, he added bitterly, "Though it was satisfying to push you back like that."

"Indeed," Paarthurnax agreed. Vahkiir looked up at him, surprised. He thought the dragon would be angrier. "Though it is not the most powerful thu'um I have ever witnessed, nor endured, especially among the Dovahkiin, it should suffice if Vokrijun chooses to engage you in battle." His eyes darkened slightly. "However, do not forget that while you possess a suleyk he can never hope to match, that one has mastered rotmulaag that you have not. Though you may find him wanting in power, his technique is superior to yours. As it stands, a battle with him still may not conclude in your favor, Dovahkiin. I would suggest that you avoid engaging him unless you must."

Vahkiir frowned, a flare of anger welling up inside of him. "I thought that you said that it is the nature of dragons to try to dominate others," he pointed out coldly. "Would refusing to answer a challenge not be considered cowardly?"

"It is cowardly to accept a challenge and flee once you have done so," Paarthurnax corrected him. "Refusing to challenge a superior opponent, however, is pragmatic, and it is shameful for a superior to challenge an inferior. Otherwise, the mighty would constantly challenge the meek to duels to prove their superiority, and the weak would be forced to endure defeat after defeat. It is disgraceful for a truly superior dov to challenge an inferior, and it is foolish for a weaker dov to challenge their betters. Therefore, our kind does not issue a challenge unless they are certain that the battle is worthy of being fought, and there is a chance for victory, without said victory being tarnished by defeating an unworthy opponent."

"Hm," Vahkiir replied noncommittally. "In any case, I suppose that I should thank you for your gift."

"Niid kogaan. There is no cause for you to thank me. It is simply a matter of pragmatism, Dovahkiin. In truth, I may have armed an even more powerful enemy, and this decision may yet come back to haunt me," Paarthurnax said pensively. "However, that is a risk that I am willing to accept. After all, as I said, we dovah are not averse to making allies when the need is great."

"If so, then why not accompany me?" Vahkiir asked pointedly. "Why not help me confront Vokrijun, if you believe the need is so great?"

Paarthurnax shook his massive head with a low rumble. "That would be unwise. For one, it would leave Monahven unguarded. If Vokrijun does indeed seek the ahraantiid here, pursuing him would be foolish, as it would simply present him with the opportunity to access the wound without contest. What's more, even if he did not, another dov might take the opportunity to seize my domain… and even if they did not know what it is that I guard, I am loath to surrender my strunmah to one of my kin on principle," he added with a wry chuckle.

Vahkiir's scowl deepened. "That is not the only reason, though, is it?"

"No," Paarthurnax confirmed, his mirth fading almost immediately. "My solitude atop this naar is a sort of exile that grants me a measure of restraint." His gaze turned towards the sky, a low sigh escaping his throat. "Zol mul zeymah. Once, I was Alduin's chief lieutenant. The mightiest of the dovah, aside from him. The territories I controlled were vast, and my position was unchallenged. And yes, while I did eventually come to sympathize with men for the cruelties my race inflicted upon them, I too was complicit." He looked down again, his eyes clouded. "I must confess – I was once among the most depraved and decadent of my race. My name itself – Paar Thur Nax – in your tongue would translate to the words 'ambition,' 'overlord,' and 'cruelty.' My greed was matched only by Alduin's, and I wonder now if my ambitions would have been sated even were I to have conquered the whole of Nirn." He sighed heavily. "Sahlo, rel. Worse, Skyrim is now in such a fractured state that I doubt there is anyone who could truly oppose me. Were I to descend from this mountain, I fear that my instincts would overtake me." A grim chuckle escaped his throat. "There would be little to stop me from easily conquering much of Skyrim, save for the return of Alduin himself… which may perhaps be another reason why I am not eager to see his return." He then gave Vahkiir a sidelong look. "And you, I suppose, Dovahkiin. Were you to grow powerful enough, you too might be able to stop my rampage. Perhaps that is why my father chose to send you to us now – as a check on both Alduin's power and my own, in this time of strife and weakness amongst the people I once taught the thu'um."

Vahkiir narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Then I suppose that it is fortunate that you have chosen to remain here, isn't it?" he asked cautiously.

"Indeed," Paarthurnax agreed with a light chuckle. "Zu'u dreh ni laan dir. After all, I am in no hurry to meet my own end, nor do I wish to interfere with my bormah's plans, which evidently involve sending a Dovahkiin to interfere with events in this era. No… it is best for all of us that I remain here, guarding Monahven. As I have always done… and likely will continue to do so, for many long years," he said wistfully.

Vahkiir relaxed slightly, noting the faraway look in the dragon's eyes. "That… must be lonely," he said quietly. For some reason, despite the fact that he was still quite wary of the dragon – and the fact that his blood still burned at the thought of challenging him – he nevertheless could not help but feel moved to pity.

"Such is my choice. Do not mourn for me, Dovahkiin," Paarthurnax replied simply.

"Still… while I agree that it is wise of you to remain here if you fear you might attempt to conquer others once more, surely some companionship would not go amiss?" Vahkiir asked.

"Such as yourself?" Paarthurnax asked wryly.

"No. I suspect we would inevitably try to kill one another," Vahkiir replied bluntly.

Paarthurnax blinked, then threw his head back and let out a roar of laughter. "Vahzen! I cannot refute that," Paarthurnax chortled as he looked down again. "Ahh… but as I said, do not mourn for me. Though I spend much of my time alone, the years do not seem so long to one as old as I, as they must to you, young Dovahkiin. What's more, we dovah have long memories, and I still recall every mortal who has visited me over the years. Pilgrims still seek me out from time to time – usually for my knowledge, especially of the thu'um. The occasional visit from a mortal does not rouse my innate desire to conquer and slaughter, and I often rather enjoy their company. I cherish every visit, rare as they are." The dragon shook his head again. "So, as I said, I have no need for your pity, Dovahkiin."

Vahkiir considered him for a long moment, then sighed and shrugged. "As you wish. In that case, I suppose I have nothing left to discuss with you." He peered over his shoulder at the winding mountain path behind him, then added in a low growl, "I should begin my descent then."

"Hm…." Paarthurnax grunted softly. Then, to Vahkiir's surprise, he suddenly lifted himself up from where he was crouched in the snow and crawled over to him. "Well… as we have little tiid, I suppose I could offer you one final gift – one I have not offered any other mortal, at least not in a very long time, and one I do not expect to offer again."

Vahkiir turned back around and folded his arms over his chest. "Go on."

Paarthurnax walked forward a bit more, until he was standing beside Vahkiir. Then, he laid down on the snow and lowered his massive neck. "I will permit you to climb onto my back. I will return you to the base of the mountain in a matter of minutes."

Vahkiir's eyes widened with shock, prompting another chuckle from the dragon. "Are… you certain?" he asked apprehensively. "Did you not say that you must remain here to guard the time-wound?"

"Zu'u koraav gut. I have a clear view of the surrounding area. I watched Vokrijun return to Bromjunaar, and a short flight down the mountain will not be long enough for him to return to threaten my domain," Paarthurnax explained. "Besides, as you have said, we have little time." He then lifted his upper lip in what Vahkiir assumed was a smirk. "Though if you insist upon climbing down the mountain yourself, I shall not hinder you."

Vahkiir's scowl immediately returned at the dragon's taunting. Muttering to himself, he stalked over to the dragon and climbed slowly over his neck, and then he slid back so that he was straddling the dragon's shoulders, where his long neck met his chest. There was little to hold onto with his legs dangling freely in the air, but he leaned forward and grabbed a ridge tightly to steady himself.

Paarthurnax let out a low hum as he pushed himself up again, which made Vahkiir hug the ridge tightly, his heart starting to pound. "Are you ready?" the dragon called back. "Hold tight – it will be quite difficult for me to catch you if you fall!"

Vahkiir was about to shout a retort, but before he could, the dragon suddenly spread his massive wings. He beat them in the air three times while pushing off the snowy ground with his powerful hind legs, and then he was aloft. Vahkiir let out a terrified cry as he hugged the ridge tightly with both hands, his eyes bulging as the ground fell away from him. His heart was slamming in his chest, and he felt as though he might be sick, but he also knew that he was now completely at the dragon's mercy, and there was nothing he could do but hold as tightly as he could as Paarthrunax soared away from the summit of the mountain.

With the wind whipping past his ears, Vahkiir could hardly hear anything. The freezing air also stole his breath, and he was paralyzed with fear as Paarthurnax circled the summit of the mountain. As his initial terror subsided, however, Vahkiir found the courage to raise his head slightly, and he was rewarded with a stunning view of Skyrim. Once again, he was awestruck by the raw beauty of the land, with its jagged peaks, rolling forests, and vast tundra laid out before him. For a few moments, he forgot his terror at the unfamiliar sensation of flight, and allowed himself to simply stare, amazed, at the land below him. Dimly, he wondered if he could see Solstheim from where they were, though when he scanned his surroundings, all he saw was an endless snowy plain, with his home island nowhere in sight. A twinge of pain lanced through his chest, and he let out a soft sigh of disappointment.

As he turned back around, Vahkiir suddenly felt his stomach drop. His eyes again widened with fright as Paarthurnax abruptly stopped circling and instead began diving back towards the earth. Tears were pulled from his eyes as the freezing wind whipped past him, and he grit his teeth as he clung tightly to the dragon's back. He was so terrified that he could not even let out a scream as the dragon plunged over the side of the mountain and plummeted towards the distant ground below.

As they drew nearer and nearer to the ground, Vahkiir could see the people in the village below pointing, though he could not hear them with the wind whistling in his ears. Near the river, he spotted Brevyn, the other elves, and Ilga gathering their weapons. Vahkiir tried to shout to them, but his voice was lost in the rushing wind, and doing so nearly made him lose his precarious balance on the dragon's back. Clenching his teeth, he tightened his grip around the dragon's neck as the ground rushed towards them.

At the last moment, Paarthurnax suddenly opened his wings, jolting Vahkiir upwards as he did. The dragon flapped twice, then came to settle heavily on an open patch of snow. Vahkiir shuddered as he looked up to see that the villagers were swarming around the elves with their hands up, desperately shouting for the elves not to attack the dragon. Then his strength left him, and his grip on the dragon's neck loosened. He tumbled off of Paarthurnax's back and landed unceremoniously on his side in a snowdrift, still trembling with fright.

Paarthurnax looked down at him and let out a disdainful snort. "Dovah sil, ni Kaan. You have the soul of a dragon, but not Kyne's blessing, it would seem," he remarked drily. "Dovah do not fear the sky."

Vahkiir didn't even have the strength to reply, so he settled for glaring up at the dragon furiously as he slowly pushed himself into a sitting position. His body was still shaking with fright, but after a few moments, he managed to find his voice again. "So… so you are certain you will not join us?" he asked, struggling to get his tongue to cooperate against his dry lips.

"I will not," Paarthurnax confirmed. "Though it is likely we will see each other again, I cannot linger here for long."

The dragon raised his head and slowly looked around, until his eyes fell on the wizened village elder. The elder met his gaze, and the two exchanged a silent nod, before Paarthurnax opened his wings again. "Farewell, Dovahkiin," he said as he pushed himself up into the air. "Should you uncover Vokrijun's intentions, come speak with me again. Until then, I wish you success on your journey."

Before Vahkiir could reply, Paarthurnax began flapping his wings more rapidly, and in a few moments, he was so far away that he seemed no larger than an eagle. Vahkiir watched him pensively, then looked down again when he heard the elves and Ilga hurrying towards him. Brevyn reached him fist and dropped to his knees to examine him, with Ilga coming to a stop just behind him.

"Vahkiir! Are you hurt?!" he asked anxiously. "What was that dragon? Did it capture you?" He tilted his head. "Or… did you tame it…?"

Vahkiir let out an amused snort of laughter. "No… I don't think I, nor anyone, could ever tame that one," he admitted. He slowly pushed himself to his feet, and though his legs were still shaking, he managed to remain upright.

"That… was not the old master, was it?" Ilga asked in a voice almost above a whisper. "I have heard tales of him, but I did not realize he was still alive."

"I imagine that we all have questions," a calmer voice announced. Brevyn and Ilga turned to see Nerevar standing behind them, his arms folded over his chest, and an amused smile tugging at his lips. "But why don't we let Vahkiir collect his bearings first?"

"No… it's alright," Vahkiir replied. "But first, I'd appreciate it if we could find a fire. I have much to tell you, and such tales are best told by the fireside."