To Dragons, the mortal races always appeared like puny ants.
Weak, needing to be in large groups in order to survive, and putting reason before strength.
Dragons disliked that. They did whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted, however they wanted.
Might makes right. That was, is, and will always be their belief.
Until something comes and ruthlessly shatters it.
The many Dragons that plummeted from the skies of Whiterun and crashed down like scaled meteors had been felled during the Dragon War of the Merethic Era.
Many were felled due to mortals gathering in large groups to bring them down in a mighty battle.
Others… Others experienced the terror of that accursed Shout.
Originally created to even the field and force Dragons to land, it was then morphed and changed into a weapon of slaughter meant to be wielded against Dragonkind, and Dragonkind only.
One master of the Voice after another learned that Shout, and filled it with their Rage. With their Hate. With their Disgust.
All of their negative feelings towards Dragonkind were poured within these three words, which only a mortal could ever speak.
Some Dragons fell after they experienced the initial version of the Shout.
Others fell while being ripped apart by the effects of Dragonrend. A Shout that weaponizes the Hate and Rage of the mortals enslaved by Dragons, of the mortals that watched their own brothers and sisters be used as snacks or as mere tools for those beasts.
The creation of this Shout made the Dragons cower, and a great many of them experienced terror for the first time in their immortal lives.
And now, they were experiencing it once more. Some died in utter agony before even crashing down within Whiterun, while others slowly stood and found themselves turned into sheep.
Sheep being gazed at by countless hungry wolves. Wolves hungry for blood and revenge.
The sound of a church bell ringing echoes across the streets of Whiterun, a brilliant glow erupting high in the skies as restorative green light washes down below, enveloping the whole city.
Those on the verge of death are back to full health in a span of seconds, feeling stronger and better than ever before.
While those with their eyes on the fallen Dragons grasp the closest weapon within reach before pouncing forward, no matter if they were a warrior, a young boy, a wife or even a cook.
They all grasped the closest weapon, roared out their anger at the destruction of their homes, and lashed out at the source of all of the destruction and death surrounding them.
The Dragons were like flies that fell into a very active anthill, full of the very same ants they looked down upon.
The very same ants that despite the sheer size and power difference between them still bared their teeth and brandished their weapons without fear, welcoming death with a grin on their faces.
Because even after losing a war to these very same ants, the Dragons still failed to grasp the sheer might mortals can bring out when they stand united.
The streets were in chaos, but this was a chaos the people loved. A chaos of battle that made their blood boil, that did not have them cowering away from another Dragon sweeping down from the skies to breathe out fire instead of battling them on the ground.
Arrows punched through scales, kitchen knives parted flesh and muscles, daggers punctured holes and blades hacked the flailing, roaring beasts apart.
The Dragons struggled and roared. The Nords roared and laughed.
And within the street, a Court Mage found himself out of place. He wasn't meant for battles on the front-lines, or direct confrontations.
Farengar watches the mighty beast flail, struggling to drive off the Dragon Knight hacking it apart and sustaining no injuries in the process. Beneath the light of that Master Class Scroll, Terra Santa, all within Whiterun were basically immortals at the moment.
Farengar would have felt pained at using such an expensive Scroll… If he didn't have a chest filled with nearly a hundred more, a message of 'Use these bitches, don't be stingy!' attached to said chest.
Sticking to his cover, Farengar watches the battle carefully, trying and hoping for any sort of opening, anything he could do to further assist the Dragon Knights in taking down the beast.
He was a master of Illusion and Fire Magic, hence his 'Secret-Fire' moniker due to him making his flames invisible through Illusion Magic.
But invisible flames wouldn't really be useful when they could harm his very allies… If only he had a way to be useful- Farengar blinks when the Dragon roars and turns, leaving its back to Farengar… And the Court Mage's eyes slowly trail towards a certain spot.
Stories of what Leonidas did to the Dragon before Whiterun many months ago ring across his mind.
"Oh yeah, stuck his whole arm up that beast's ass and then blew it right up with Magic. Blood all over that wonderful bastard. Never wanted to offer a man a mug of mead more than I did that day."
"-And then he just walks up, brings his whole arm back, then punches it straight in that asshole! The Dragon locks up, then slowly looks back in fear. That once proud beast was trembling, I swear. And then its guts were all over the place. Mainly on the wizard, but by the Divines… That was one way to bring it down…"
"Never seen a Mage willingly put themselves in harm's way, and then pull of something so insane yet so cool at the same time. Magic ain't that bad, after all."
Before he could even think twice about it, Farengar already finds himself pouncing forward, left arm drawn all the way back.
The dragon's enormous tail rises up, and Farengar punches his whole arm straight in that defenseless asshole.
The Dragon locks up, and Farengar grins like a man possessed before letting loose.
Flames wash forth directly inside the beast in immense quantities, soon overflowing out of that scorched hole and from the beast's own jaws as it twitches and struggles before slowly falling limp.
Farengar draws back, eyes wide at the easy kill of a mighty and powerful beast. Weakened and distracted, but still powerful.
"Damn, there's another one…" He hears one of the Dragon Knight mutter aloud before Farengar just laughs, an insane cackle of ecstasy.
Manic eyes flick towards the now nervous Dragon Knights, "Bring me to the next Dragon!" Farengar demands, eager for more blood, and finally understanding why Leonidas went for the ass!
He'll never forget this exhilarating rush!
"You heard the Mage, boys! Let's go!"
Farengar ended up humiliating three more Dragons after that.
Meanwhile, the main square before the massive Jorrvaskr lay in ruin. Three enormous Dragons clashed within, brutally tearing at each other in a contest of pure physical might.
A colossal claw slam a white Dragon into the earth with enough force to shake the surrounding blocks, the immense form of Julspaan towering over the much smaller Dragon with a sneer upon his scaled jaws.
"This is the might you bring when battling mortals, brother?" Enormous claws flex, sharp nails puncturing through white scales and drawing blood, the ground beneath wheezing out a breath as it lay there powerless, "They won once before, do you truly believe this time will be different?"
"Betrayer!" Julspaan drifts his gaze to a scarlet Dragon, much bigger than the white one, and radiating immense heat, "Had we not lost our main force due to betrayal, the war would have been won!" The scarlet Dragon hisses out, embers flicking out around its jaws.
Julspaan stares down at his brethren, "The main force of mortals, yes." The scarlet Dragon flinches, and Julspaan sneers, "How truly pathetic of you, brother, to make excuses to hide your own weakness."
The scarlet Dragon roars, the heat radiating from it intensifying at it pounces across the square to crash into Julspaan. The titanic Dragon merely watches the beast draws close, but a Shout of "FUS-RO-DAH!" Rends the air, crashing into the scarlet beast and sending it hurling across the square with ease.
Lowering his gaze, Julspaan watches a bearded man stride forward, blade in hand, and man garbed in blue flanking his side. The man returns the gaze and narrows his eyes, "You stand with us, beast?"
With a nod, Julspaan softens his gaze, "I have had enough of my brothers leading such a senseless slaughter." Those words affected Ulfric deeply, the grip over his sword faltering momentarily.
But he could push those thoughts until later. For now, people needed his strength. "Then may your name be sang in all the taverns across Skyrim, and within the halls of Sovngarde."
Julspaan laughs, his claw rising then crashing down, claiming the life of the white Dragon and sending blood flying everywhere, "A Dragon's name being sang in the halls of Sovngarde? That would be a first!"
His wings unfold, spreading wide as he gazes at the standing scarlet Dragon, now flanked by an injured yet furious metallic Dragon coming from the lower parts of the city.
With a bellow of his own, Ulfric was the first to lead the charge, the two opposing Dragons roaring in answer and pouncing forward, ready to slaughter their traitorous brother and the mortals fighting alongside him.
In another area of the city, Aela slowly comes to, blinking herself awake due to someone shaking her. A rough, gauntlet clad hand draws back, silver-white hair filling her vision for a second, yet long enough to make the red haired woman jolt in place. "Aurelia!"
Aurelia smiles despite the seriousness and anger in her eyes, her helmet off and laying in one of her hands, "Aela… Where is Gretel?"
Aela blinks, worry instantly gnawing at her insides, and she looks around instantly, ready to rise on her feet- Then she instantly slumps back down with a sigh of relief. "Over to the Dragon's corpse… By Hircine is she a handful…"
Aurelia stands, turning her gaze towards the massive Dragon laying prone over a series of crumbled buildings. The mighty beast was torn apart, his blood creating a massive pool right beneath it.
He looked like he had been bitten and torn to death, with several chunks of flesh missing, his own tail being severed, and one of the hind legs being gone. Together with a wing.
There were also dozens of arrows stabbed within the corpse, and Aurelia draws closer without fear, "Gretel?" She calls out, worry filling her voice, her eyes seeking that familiar head of red hair.
"'Relia?!" An excited cry reaches her ears a second later, flooding Aurelia with relief as she steps into the Dragon's pool of blood, "Wait- No! 'Relia, don't come here-" The Dragon pulses, and soon its flesh starts fading away as Aurelia devours his Soul.
"Fuck!" Stepping around the corpse and near the belly area, Aurelia finds Gretel, sitting in a pool of blood, and drenched in it from head to toe. "'Relia! I was eating that!"
Gretel pouts, pointing a small finger towards the torn open Dragon belly, now an empty cavity with nothing to offer.
Aurelia stares at the sight for a few seconds before sighing deeply, "You shouldn't be eating this, you know?"
"It's very yummy though!" Aurelia sighs again, a fond smile on her face as she picks up the young girl smeared in blood, who swiftly proceeds to hug her tightly, "I missed you so much, 'Relia!"
The Dragonborn giggles, hugging the child tightly and giving her a happy twirly that earned a peal of adorable laughter from Gretel, the sound soothing all of Aurelia's worries and fears, "Did you do this?"
Gretel nods, smug grin on her childish face covered in blood, "Yeah!" Sniffing, she turns to glare at the Dragon, "This fat bitch landed on the house! Right on the fucking kitchen!"
"And so you decided to… eat him?"
"I first wanted to beat the fuck outta him… But using that form makes me very hungry, so eh…" Gretel shrugs, "At least I can control it as long as I eat and taste blood. Big Sis' form is so much stronger though, so she is just all angry and feral."
Putting that aside, Aurelia brings Gretel away, holding her close as the sounds of battle in the distance remain intense, but some start to fade away.
"I miss Big Sis and Leo…" Gretel muses softly, leaning into Aurelia's hug to seek comfort.
Gently and warmly, Aurelia look down at the child in her arms, "Once everything here is settled and calm… We'll go to them, okay?" Gretel's eyes widen momentarily before a squeal of happiness leaves her, her hug growing ten times stronger as she kicks her feet in the air.
Aurelia laughs, then slowly crouches down to put Gretel down, "Go with Aela and find a place to hide, okay? I'll be back soon." She promises, patting Gretel's head, her hair also caked in blood.
The young girl blinks softly, "You going out to hunt?" Aurelia smiles warmly yet sharply, and Gretel grins before nodding and rushing back towards the tired Aela.
Watching them go, Aurelia lets the smile slip off her face before she places her helmet back on.
Snowflakes slowly enter her vision, and she draws Dawnbreaker without hesitation.
The skies had suddenly darkened, a gargantuan whirlpool rumbling in the clouds above, raining down icy winds with a downpour of snowflakes.
The whirlpool lay right above Whiterun, the eye of the storm gazing down upon the city with an intensity that made Aurelia nervous, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end.
This was a Sage, Aurelia realizes. Among the mightiest of Dragons, those that had mastered their chosen words, and are capable of unleashing their might even without speaking them.
Aurelia breathes in and bends law, immense power flowing through her limbs and veins. The physical might of more than a hundred Dragons layered together, cracking the stone road below her feet.
Then pulverizing it as she launches herself skyward, straight towards the outside of Whiterun.
A quick look below makes her grin, noticing that among the dozens of Dragons that had crashed down into the city, only five remain.
It went to show how they could only hold an advantage while fighting high in the sky and out of reach, but once on the ground? The Dragons were the real ants.
Her gaze then flicks towards the valley beyond the walls, and her lips part just as she feels the beast within the clouds lock fully onto her.
"Wuld-Nah-Kest!" A sonic-boom echoes across the skies as her form is hurled across the land, another and much louder sonic-boom exploding into existence from the Heavens above as the Dragon within the storm chases after her.
The very gargantuan hurricane crashes down with the beast, and Aurelia crashes into the earth with glowing blade already in hand, feet digging trenches through the earth as she flips around to meet the incoming blow with all of her might.
Both hands grip Dawnbreaker's handle and draw the blade back as she stomps forward, a gargantuan claw crashing into view with the howl of the storm above wreathed around it.
The collision ruptures the earth, causing it sink but blast skyward, like the ripple caused by a rock falling into water.
Earthquakes shake the valley, with deafening metallic clashes ringing out from within the rising and growing cloud of dust and debris. The radiance of Dawnbreaker shined brightly through the cloud, lighting up the battling figures of mortal and beast.
Aurelia clicked her tongue, arms unbearably numb after the several clashes against those massive sharp claws. Despite his size, the Dragon was nimble and quick, nothing like the others she has fought so far.
But what annoyed her further was the cloud of dust covering her vision, stopping her from fully laying her eyes on her opponent so to better keep track of him.
"Su-Grah-Dun." She whispers, unleashing a pulse of energy around her body as wisps of ethereal energy start cloaking her arms, making her feel much better.
It was likely the same Shout the Dragon fighting against her was using, so she had to even the playing field and slowly gain an advantage.
Another piercing howl of winds rends the air, forcing her to duck to dodge the barely visible blade of wind that tried to decapitate her while cleaving the cloud of dust apart.
"Laas-Yah-Nir." Another whisper beneath her breath, and finally she could see her target, his glowing outline pouncing towards her with claws wrapped in roaring gales.
This time, she doesn't dodge. Instead, she dives towards her target, "Nin-Vey-Luv!" Dawnbreaker glimmers, then screams through the air as she swings her weapon.
It was a dangerous gamble on her part, using a Shout she had barely mastered. The Cutting Shout, a series of Words meant to Cut.
Paarthurnax had been reluctant in teaching her this Shout, as it can harm her too if she is careless. It is a Shout created by a powerful and very feared Great Sage among Dragons.
The reason it is feared is because it cuts through anything, without fail. No matter how strong a barrier is, the Shout cuts it.
Her blade screams through the air, and the once mighty scales that deflected her blows part beneath the enhanced sharpness, the barest minimum she could bring out with this Shout while being careful.
Blood splashes through the air, and the sheer force behind her blow displaces the dust cloud just as nimble Dragon pounces away.
Aurelia blows air through her nostrils and flips around, finally laying her eyes on her opponent.
Slightly bigger than Paarthurnax, with wine-red scales and a royal blue hue to his wings. His scales stood out with small spikes and looked extremely polished and sharp, making his body glint in the light.
The Dragon tested his injured claw, his blood dripping on the ruined earth below, his limb having been nearly severed in half by her slash. It was a deep wound, but the beast did not seem to care much. "Impressive, Dovahkiin."
The Dragon's direct praise surprises Aurelia. She detected no hostility from the Dragon before her, reminding her of another Dragon. The proud Yolosqah she had fought long ago. Her second Dragon, in fact.
"You Thu'um has grown much in such a short while. Truly marvelous." Standing tall, the reddish Dragon stares down at her in respect, "If only mine brothers train as hard as you have…"
Aurelia rolls the blade in her hands as the Dragon sighs deeply, "Here to prove your might, or what?" She questions, still on guard against the Dragon that is most definitely a Sage.
He did not utter a Word, yet the air felt cold, and winds had started picking up. The hurricane above is just waiting to be unleashed on the valley below.
The Dragon chuckles, amused by Aurelia's questions, "When a Dragon fights, it is always a test of might." Shaking his wings, the Dragon lowers his head to better stare at Aurelia, "And I always enjoyed battling mortals. I was felled by one in the Merethic Era."
"His Voice did not best mine, but his body did." One claws rises, sharp nails sliding across a certain spot on his belly. "Alas, I do not bear the scar of the wound that took my life back then. Truly vexatious."
Aurelia gulps as she keeps her gaze on the Dragon before her. Something was wrong. Her senses kept screaming at her that something was wrong.
And she trusted them.
"You are stalling for time." The Dragon chuckles, and Aurelia's eyes narrow, "Why?"
Baring his fangs, the Dragon Sage flexes his claws into the earth below, "If you seek answers, then you must best me in battle. Do so, and I shall tell you everything."
Dawnbreaker is tossed into her left hand, freeing her right hand, "Yol-Toor-Shul!" Her fingers curl and clench around the incandescent and brilliant Sun Dragon Blade, the air around her warping and the ground melting from its mere presence.
The Dragon Sage spreads his wings and growls in challenge, "My name is Odahviing, Dovahkiin." The skies above rumble, and piercing gales start to shroud Odahviing's form once more, "But mine kin also call me the Sage of Storms."
His wings flap.
And the very Heavens come crashing down upon her.
~~XXX~~
He was found upon the frozen shores of the Dragon Capital of Bromjunaar, having somehow survived a ship wreck and a fall into glacial waters.
He was up and moving by the second day, and found himself in a strange land.
As a young boy, he was as tall as fully grown men, and boasted physical might greater than a dozen well-trained warriors.
Many Dragons had seen his strength and coveted it, wishing to make him their servant. A weapon for them to wield and show off against each other, like a toy.
But he was never swayed. He simply lived as an errand boy within the city for a full year before his life changed on one fateful day.
An elderly man had angered a Dragon by accident, a simple mistake due to old age blown out of proportions by the pride and arrogance of Dragons.
Said Dragon had been close to eating or roasting the old man alive before a soldier stepped forward, standing before the elderly man to shield him from the wrath of the Dragon.
The soldier proclaimed he couldn't stand by and watch such injustice go by. He demanded fairness and Justice, and for the Dragon to not be guided and blinded by his arrogance.
Those words stirred something within the young Atmoran boy. The happiness within the old man's eyes at seeing someone stand up for him, yet also the fear for their lives.
And the courage within the soldier to stand unfazed before an irate Dragon to protect another.
In his anger, the Dragon ate the soldier, and that was when the young Atmoran boy found his duty.
He had rushed forward, grabbed the blade that had fallen from the bisected corpse of the soldier, and wielded it to tear the Dragon apart.
His action, done to protect others from the wrath of an arrogant Dragon, was blasphemy for those that openly worshiped out of fear.
For they feared the wrath and revenge from the Dragons, they cursed him. They called the Dragon Guards upon him.
He left them all broken and beaten, barely sustaining any injuries in the ensuing scuffles that ended only when a Dragon Priest personally took action.
Bound and beaten, the boy was dragged within the temple to be judged for his sins.
Execution, work within the mines, used to test dangerous alchemical potions or brought back as a powerful Undead under their rule. Those were the suggested courses of actions the countless Dragon Priests mulled over.
Until the one wearing the Mask with tusks stepped within the temple.
Deinmaar. That was the name that was gifted to him. It means Keeper, or Guardian. He preferred the latter.
Guardian of the people, of the weak, of those who couldn't protect themselves. He upheld justice, and punished any that overstepped their boundaries, be they mortals or Dragons.
He simply wanted coexistence. For mortals and Dragons to stand together, not as masters and slaves, but as companions. As friends.
But that was a mere silly dream.
His head recoils back, and a grunt soon leaves his lips as a fist crashes into his stomach, lifting him off the ground.
The Undead Mage turned into a frozen Juggernaut presses the advantage, an unstoppable wall of violence that did not flinch from Deinmaar's own mighty blows.
"Cat got your tongue!?" The Undead Mage goads, each of his blows releasing immense shock-waves that further ruined the old storage room they were in. "Talk to me, Deinmaar!"
The towering Atmoran ducks beneath a wide haymaker and delivers a vicious uppercut that lifts Leonidas off the ground, allowing Deinmaar to reach down and grab one of his frost encased ankles before swinging the Juggernaut of ice over his shoulders and ramming him into the earth.
The storage room shakes and crack as Deinmaar snarls in outrage, venting out his anger and stress as he whirls around and slams the giant of ice into the ground repeatedly.
But when he stops, his anger is only incensed when Leonidas is just staring up at him, frost-encased arms crossed over his chest. "I still hear nothing, buddy."
Deinmaar snarls, "What do you want me to say?!" He roars out, one foot rising and crashing down to try and stomp the Undead's head to pieces.
A sonic-boom ripples forth as a Draconian Howl slams into Deinmaar's chest, forcing him to stumble back and nearly fall, allowing Leonidas to swiftly rise back to his feet. "Anything, you fucking dumbass!"
"Talk! Scream! Rage! Make me understand why you are like this!" Their forms collide together once more in a test of might, and Deinmaar's ardent eyes never leave those glowing green flames.
Their hands, locked together and pushing against each other, kept them from advancing further. Stopping them from lashing out with more senseless violence.
"I don't want you to understand!" Deinmaar shouts, pressing forward through gritted teeth, his anger rising when Leonidas openly laughs at him.
"Now that's a nice fucking lie!" The Undead sneers, "But alas, I do not give a flying fuck about what you want! I only care about what the people out there need!" His head draws back, and Leonidas promptly headbutts Deinmaar, ending their stalemate.
"And what they need, is a man that won't fucking mope around like a little bitch for Four fucking Eras and will stand to do what is right!"
Deinmaar lashes out with a stressed bellow, his massive arm swinging through the air with enough force to kill lesser Dragons. "Then you're looking at the wrong fucking man!"
His swing misses, forcing him to stumble, but Leonidas is soon upon him as soon as Deinmaar turns around.
The Juggernaut of Ice shoulder tackles him through a wall, then three more until he slams Deinmaar into a wall that does not give in. "I know I am looking at the wrong man!" Leonidas shouts right back, pulling back to slam a palm against Deinmaar's helmet clad head and slam it back into the destroyed wall, "But I can still see his dumbass deep in there!"
"You can't hide that desperation and need to be someone from me, Deinmaar! Because I used to see it in the fucking mirror every fucking morning!"
Deinmaar grunts, finding his immense strength constantly fail him as he clutched at the wrist of the hand pressing his skull against the wall, "Then take my armor!" He shouts, seemingly desperate, lost. "Take my gear! Become their Deinmaar-"
Leonidas cuts him off with a roar of frustration, his arm wrenching Deinmaar out of the crater in the wall before slamming the Atmoran's immense form back into it, "It's not the fucking armor, you goddamn cunt!"
"It's the fucking idiot wearing it, and that's you!" Another slam into the wall, causing a massive section of it and the ceiling to crumble all over them, "You are Deinmaar! You are who they want and need!"
Deinmaar screams in frustration right back, a second wind of strength filling his cold body and allowing him to push back and punch Leonidas with enough force to shatter a great amount of ice armor off his form as the Undead stumbles back.
"I did not want any of this to happen!"
"So fucking what!?" Leonidas whirls around with a vicious punch that slams Deinmaar back into the wall, causing the room around them to start collapsing even faster.
"You think life is all about fucking choosing and getting?! No!" The Undead shouts in anger, digging Deinmaar's form out of the debris and hurling the man across the room.
"You choose, but you don't get! You make do with the hand that is then dealt to you after you made your choice! You don't get to see where you end up, the consequences of your actions or inaction! You only get to accept that and move the fuck on!"
Deinmaar tries and fails to rise from the ground, his eyes screwing shut as he punches the ground with the left-over strength he could manage to muster, "I can't!" He shouts, voice thick with sorrow, "I can't move on! I cannot accept what I've done!"
Leonidas stomps on the ground, a few paces away from the downed Atmoran, "Talk! To! Me!"
Deinmaar shakes his head, breathes in, then shouts before lifting his head to stare towards Leonidas, "This was a gaol! Managed my me!"
"I was the Dragon Priest of Law! I made sure no mortal or Dragon overstepped their boundaries! That there was no senseless slaughter and ruthless killing from the Dragons, and no revolts from the people!"
The ground around them keeps cracking, the ceiling and their surroundings collapsing further with each passing second.
"I upheld Justice! I wanted nothing more than to see the people and Dragons coexist as companions! As friends!" Slowly, Deinmaar stands, renewed with energy. His body stands tall, brimming with power, his hands clenched at his sides.
"And then what happened?" Leonidas probes further as Deinmaar opens his right hand.
A rumble echoes around them, and soon a massive blade flies into view and into Deinmaar's grasp.
"The War happened." Deinmaar hisses out between gritted teeth, "The gaol was changed. The mortal prisoners executed. The Dragon ones freed."
Leonidas's shoulders sag, "You watched everything you worked hard for go up in smoke." Deinmaar slowly nods, "I'm sorry."
The Atmoran comes to a pause, the simmering rage within him suddenly being quenched even as the frost around Leonidas recedes enough to allow him to pull the handle of a sword without blade.
"I have a great many questions." The Undead Mage starts, letting his Magic flow through the crystal in the handle so to create a sleek and large frozen blade. "I always felt like that the odds were stacked against the rebellion, especially after seeing the murals on the doors of the temple."
The frost of his armor crackled and popped, growing thicker and spikier with each passing second. "I wish there was a way for me to help you without all of… this. I'm sorry." His words were genuine, his apology heartfelt. For once, he truly disliked being an asshole, despite the fact that this time it was needed.
Deinmaar lowers his head, his own magic rumbling to life, stone and marble around him melting within seconds, "Don't apologize. I understand."
Leonidas sighs, and azure flames cloak his armored form and blade, "But you know I won't stop now. Not until we both face what is below."
Deinmaar breathes in, and his eyes close in acceptance even as he grabs his massive blade with both hands, "I know."
The pieces in Leonidas's mind started falling into place as both fighters stomped forward, blades wrapped and howling in their respective magic cleaving through the air with all the might they could muster and unleash.
Origin Runes of the Draconian Howl Spell bloomed to life on Leonidas's frozen blade cloaked in azure flames just as frost, flames and plasma clashed together.
The collision vaporized the island and the surrounding island, displacing the clouds high above and nearly sending the spectators on the wall flying.
The majority were temporarily deafened by the blast born from the collision that created a gargantuan hole in the ocean below. The waves did not even have time to rush back in to refill the hole as a wave of heat evaporated what drew close before they were frozen still.
Leonidas and Deinmaar were left falling into the depths of the island, laying directly on the ocean floor down below, now ripped apart and left out in the open after their collision.
Leonidas was out of words. He couldn't wrap his head around the sheer level of strength and power he was wielding… And he wasn't even going all out, just like Deinmaar.
He was testing the waters, while the Atmoran did not have his head in the right place so he couldn't muster the majority of his strength.
Both crashed into the depths of the table at the same time, and Leonidas swiftly stood up, unfazed by the impact.
His gaze falls on the spot he had fallen on. A throne, with a rotten table in front of it… And a corpse. A long decayed corpse, impaled upon a staff that punched straight through its broken Dragon Priest mask.
The dragon-like staff lay stabbed into the ground right before the throne, with the corpse hanging off of it, the rotten robes and masks revealing the victim to be a Dragon Priest.
Straightening himself, Leonidas lets his gaze wander around. Thick and dense steam covered most of his vision, but what he could see that was close to him… Countless thrones, countless corpses, countless destroyed masks. Each killed in a different way, but all laid to rest on their thrones.
Impaled, bisected, decapitated, pulverized- At least a dozen different Dragon Priests. That he could see now.
The pieces fell into place, and the puzzle became whole.
"This is a graveyard of your comrades, isn't it?" Leonidas questions as he hears Deinmaar slowly stand, his form cloaked within the slowly dissipating steam.
"One of my own making." The Atmoran reveals as the steam keeps fading away, revealing more thrones, more corpses, more Dragon Priests.
Dozens became hundreds, hundreds became a thousand as the enormous circular hall came into full view.
"I used my authority… To call for a meeting." Deinmaar starts, his form coming into view as he crumbles to his knees, head lowered. "The gaol was turned into a War Council when the war started, and this was the main hall."
"When the war started, I had to take a side. But I couldn't!" His fist crashes into the ground, shaking the whole hall as Leonidas looks around, finally understanding why no one could approach the island.
All these corpses of so many powerful Dragon Priests put together… It is only normal they'd create an atmosphere that none could stand in. It would be suffocating.
"The Dragon Priests are the main force of the Dragon Army. Not due to their power, but due to their intelligence." Deinmaar's fingers dig through the dust covered stone beneath him, "The mortals knew how to weaponize a Dragon arrogance. Using it to draw them into ambushes that would claim their lives."
"But the Dragons listened to their Dragon Priests, and would seek their advice, and follow their plans. If that were allowed to happen…"
Leonidas nods in understanding, "Then the war wouldn't have lasted long." Stepping forward, the Undead slowly approaches the distraught Atmoran, "Many of these Dragon Priests were your friends and comrades, weren't they?"
"Yes!"
"Not all of them were truly, fully bad."
"No!" Another fist crashes into the ground, "So many of them did it out of fear! Fear that if they joined the rebellion, their families would suffer! So many of them had brothers and sisters, daughters and sons, or husbands or wives!"
Throwing his head up, Deinmaar locked eyes with the Undead before him. Eyes filled with hate and sorrow locked with flickering green flames, "Now you know why the war was even remotely in the rebellion's favor! Because of me!"
"Because I stained my hands! Because I went against my Code! Because I committed the greatest sin of all! Because I betrayed my comrades!"
"Because I alone slaughtered the High Council of Dragon Priests!"
Leonidas sags his shoulder as he stares at the distraught man before him.
A man loyal to a fault. One who had tried, and tried… And failed due to the actions of others.
Leonidas wonders if things could have gone differently if Alduin didn't pull his bullshit.
Would Dragon and mortal been able to truly coexist? He had seen some cases so far.
Kara and Lah, husband and wife despite the sheer difference between them.
The titanic Dragon from Falkreath, that used to have a kingdom that worshiped him, and that he dearly loved.
Just two cases, but how many more did he not know about? There was Paarthurnax too, a Dragon that overcame his nature.
"I cannot say that what you've done was right." Leonidas starts, stepping closer to the kneeling giant of a man, "But I also cannot say that it was wrong." His armor cracks and falls apart, revealing the robed Undead beneath.
Reaching up, the Krosis Mask is revealed to reveal the corpse beneath, the flickering green flames now more visible than before. A frozen corpse stared down at Deinmaar, and the green flames flickered gently. "I am not here to judge you. But…"
"I want you to give yourself a chance. Please." His right hand rises up and is offered to Deinmaar, "There's a barrel of mead waiting for you in Winterhold, after all."
Deinmaar silently stares at Leonidas' outstretched hand for several silent seconds before lowering his head… And chuckling softly. "A barrel won't be enough."
Leonidas shrugs, a chuckle escaping him too, "I'm sure they'll realize their mistake too once they see just how massive you are, my guy."
Leaning back and breathing in, Deinmaar nods and raises his hand-
Only for something to crash down from the skies and shake the land.
The impact shatters the frozen waters around the bottom of the temple, yet the waters start boiling and retreating further, as if afraid of whatever had just crashed down from the Heavens.
"Anomaly."
A voice that came from the depths of hell rumbles out from within the tower of dust born from the impact.
Gargantuan black wings blacker than the night sky spread wide, warding away any dust and debris, and revealing the titanic form beneath.
Jagged black spikes, a form so black and so terrifying it would evoke nightmares in Dragons and mortals alike.
Reality itself twisted and squirmed around the gargantuan black Dragon, as if hating and rebuking his existence.
"Your existence is a disruption to the proper flow of Time."
Baleful red eyes glare down, instantly locking on Leonidas' robed form. Then they flick towards Deinmaar's downed form.
"Deinmaar? Good. Claim his life, and I shall pardon your foolish betrayal."
The World-Eater declares, wings spread wide, darkening the surrounding area as if the Sun started setting.
Leonidas stares at Alduin for several quiet seconds before turning his gaze back towards the downed Deinmaar.
Their eyes lock, and if Leonidas could smile, he would. His arm rises and is offered to Deinmaar once more.
Deinmaar clasps the outstretched hand without hesitation and is helped back to his feet. His right hand opens, and his blade flies back into his grasp as he rolls his neck and stares up at Alduin defiantly.
The World-Eater growls and bares his fangs, the sound rumbling across the graveyard of Dragon Priests.
Meanwhile, Leonidas just chuckles.
"Oh, you're about to get jumped."
A.N. Another cliffhanger? Back to back?
I am loving this.
Torturing you all, I mean! Muhuahahaha-!
I did say Alduin was gonna appear some chapters ago, so here he is!
Will he lay waste to his surroundings? Will he get jumped?
Also, Aurelia and Gretel will reunite with Leo and Hildr soon enough! More diabetes inducing sweetness incoming!
If you want to read FIVE CHAPTERS ahead, then hop on over to my ! Or not, ya ain't being forced!
p at re on SamuraiCheem
Hope y'all enjoyed this chappy!
Toodles!