Legacy of a Legend - Cover

Legacy of a Legend

Copyright© 2022 by StarFleet Carl

Chapter 18

“I’m really getting tired of this mountain. Now I understand why Klimmek wanted us to bring supplies up here.”

“Look at the bright side, my Thane. It’s doing wonders for our legs and thighs.”

“True. Yours were very nice when wrapped around my face last night.”

Either Lydia was blushing, or the cold from climbing the mountain was bringing color to her cheeks. “I could say the ... Watch out!”

A bear rose from where it was resting beside the path. I quickly ran to my right. “FUS RO DAH!” One very surprised bear found itself being tossed backwards through the air by the force of my Shout. Right off the side of the mountain.

Lydia went to the edge of the path and watched. “Ouch. Oh, that’s got to hurt. And ... splat. Not bad, about 500 feet down, he’s not getting back up from that.”

She looked back at me. “You’re getting better with that, aren’t you?”

“Like Delphine said. I can’t be afraid to use my power. I just hope that Arngeir doesn’t force me to do the same thing to him.”

The rest of our climb was basically as uneventful. A snow sabre cat and frost troll contributed to my ingredient pouch as well. The cat got one small swipe with it’s claws on my shield, but that bruise was the total injury received. I kept a fire atronach along as an extra target, just in case. But even the frost troll died to our arrows before it could get close enough. A far cry from the first trip up here, and a testament to how quickly my skills were returning.

We reached the entrance to High Hrothgar. “Well, dear, this should prove interesting.” I opened the door and we entered. Three of the Greybeards were having a meal in a side room. I walked up to Arngeir, hoping he’d be reasonable, fearing he wouldn’t be.

“Your training proceeds well, Dragonborn.”

“I need to learn the Shout used to defeat Alduin.”

His voice became flat with anger. “Where did you learn of that? Who have you been talking to?”

“It was recorded on Alduin’s Wall.”

“The Blades. Of course. They specialize in meddling in matters they barely understand. Their reckless arrogance knows no bounds. They have always sought to turn the Dragonborn from the path of wisdom. Have you learned nothing from us? Would you simply be a tool in the hands of the Blades, to be used for their own purposes?”

“They just want to defeat Alduin. Don’t you?”

“What I want is irrelevant. The Shout was used once before, was it not? Yet here we are again. Have you considered that Alduin was not meant to be defeated? Those who overthrew him in ancient times only postponed the day of reckoning, they did not stop it. If the world is meant to end, so be it. Let it end and be reborn.”

“You ... arrogant... ass.” My voice started out low and deadly, but grew in volume as I warmed up. “Do you not think I don’t know your leader is a dragon? From what I’ve seen, you’re as bad as the dragon priests that were the servants of Alduin in the first place. I told you before I was of the blood of Tiber Septim, yet you were so full of yourself that you never bothered to ask my name, or that of my Mother. Would you like to know why, you fool, that I KNOW the Blades are working for me?”

He stepped back from me, for by the time I was done, I was yelling in his face. Einarth and Borri were standing by in shock. My voice went very soft and my words were paced out, making him strain to hear me.

“My name is Martina Grizé. My grandfather was Uriel Septim, slaughtered by the Mythic Dawn at the orders of Mehrunes Dagon. My father was Martin Septim, the avatar of Akatosh. My mother is Chantal Grizé, the heroine of the Oblivion Crisis. You know I’m telling you the truth. I am Dragonborn. Are you going to help me defeat Alduin?”

Somewhere inside he found the courage to stand up to me. “No. Not now. Not until you return to the path of wisdom.”

Einarth spoke. His Voice made the whole building shake. “Arngeir. She is Dovakhiin. Stormcrown. She will speak with Paarthurnax.”

Arngeir realized that he’d overstepped himself. “Forgive me. I was ... intemperate. I allowed my emotions to cloud my judgment. Master Einarth reminded me of my duty. The decision whether or not to help you is not mine to make.”

I quietly slid my sword, already half pulled, back into its sheath. “So, you’ll teach me this Shout?”

“No.” He held up his hand in surrender. “I cannot teach you this Shout because I do not know it. It is called Dragonrend, but it’s words of Power are unknown to us. We do not regret this loss, for Dragonrend holds no place in the Way of the Voice.”

“What’s so bad about Dragonrend?”

“It was created by those who had lived under the unimaginable cruelty of Alduin’s Dragon Cult. Their whole lives were consumed with hatred for dragons, and they poured all their anger and hatred into this Shout. When you learn a Shout, you take it into your very being. In a sense, you become the Shout. In order to learn and use this Shout, you will be taking this evil into yourself.”

“Evil? Alduin is evil. I have witnessed his cruelty first hand. And I am Dragonborn. Dovakhiin. Born Hunter of Dragons. As Einarth said, I will speak to Paarthurnax.”

Arngeir looked stunned when I made that last statement. “Your mastery of the dragon tongue exceeds mine. I did not realize...”

“There’s many things you haven’t realized. Regardless, if the Shout is lost, how can I defeat Alduin?”

“Only Paarthurnax, the master of our order, can answer that question, if he so chooses.”

“I repeat, as Einarth said, I need to speak to Paarthurnax then.”

“You weren’t ready before. You still aren’t ready. But, thanks to the Blades, you now have questions that only Paarthurnax can answer. He lives in seclusion on the very peak of the mountain. He speaks to us only rarely, and never to outsiders. Being allowed to see him is a great privilege. We will teach you a Shout to open the way.”

The Greybeards led us into the courtyard outside. We continued through the courtyard, climbing steps that led towards a gateway that had magical winds screaming past it. Arngeir said, “The path to Paarthurnax lies through this gate. I will show you how to open the way.” He looked at the ground and shouted “Lok Vah Koor,” which I heard as Sky Spring Summer.

“This is our final gift to you, Dragonborn. Use it well.” He used his skills to give me the knowledge of the words. “Clear Skies will blow away the mists, but only for a short time. The path to Paarthurnax is perilous, not to be embarked upon lightly.” With that he and the rest of the Greybeards turned their backs and returned inside.

Lydia and I watched them leave. “My Thane, I am glad you did not have to kill those poor, deluded old men. Delphine was right, they really are a cult.”

“I suspect that Einarth is more founded in reality than Arngeir. You heard what he told him in there.”

With a chuckle, Lydia said, “I heard you later saying what he said, but Martina, some of us don’t speak dragon.”

“Oh, yes. Minor detail. Sorry about that. Oh, well, look at the bright side. We at least get to finally find the actual top of this damn mountain.”

Other than having to stop every so often to use the new Shout, and dealing with a few more native animals of the region, such as ice wraiths, it really was no worse a trip than climbing the Seven Thousand steps. As we approached the top, I had Lydia stay back a bit. If this Paarthurnax wanted to talk, and his voice was like that of the Greybeards that worshiped him, it could prove harmful to her.

As I got closer to a Word Wall half buried in the snow and ice, I heard the sound of wings coming from overhead, then a thud as the dragon landed. “Drem Yol Lok. Greetings, wunduniik. I am Paarthurnax. Who are you? What brings you to my strunmah ... my mountain?”

“I think you already know who I am.”

“Yes, Vaznah. You speak true, Dovakhiin. Forgive me. It has been long since I held tinvaak with a stranger. I gave in to the temptation to prolong our speech.”

“Why live alone on a mountain if you love a conversation?”

“There are many hungers it is better to deny than to feed. Discipline against the lesser aids in denial of the greater. Tell me. Why do you come here? Why do you intrude on my meditation?”

“I need to learn Dragonrend. Alduin has returned. Can you teach me?”

“Drem. Patience. There are formalities that must be observed, at the first meeting of two of the dov. By long tradition the Elder speaks first. Hear my Thu’um! Feel it in your bones. Match it, if you are Dovakhiin!”

With that he turned to the Word Wall and breathed fire upon it. I could see the words burning into the wall. “Yol ... Toor ... Shul! A gift, Dovakhiin. Understand fire as the dov do.” I felt the power flow into me. “Now, show me what you can do. Greet me not as mortal, but as dovah!”

I could feel the new Shout straining to get out. I faced him and shouted at him “YOL TOOR!” Flames shot from my mouth and enveloped his head.

“Aah ... yes! The Dragonblood runs strong in you. It is long since I had the pleasure of speech with one of my own kind.” He took to the air and then landed on the Word Wall. I waved Lydia forward so she could hear this conversation as well, since it seemed the worst of things was over.

“So. You have made your way here, to me. No easy task for a joor ... mortal. Even for one of the Dovah Sos. Dragonblood. What would you ask of me?”

“Alduin has returned. Can you teach me Dragonrend?”

“Ah, I have expected you. Prodah. You would not come all this way for tinvaak with an old dovah. No. You seek your weapon against Alduin.”

“The Greybeards, especially Arngeir, didn’t want me to come at all.”

“Hmm. Yes. They are very protective of me. But I do not know the Thu’um you seek. Krosis. It cannot be known to me. Your kind – jorre – mortals – created it as a weapon against the dov ... the dragons. Our hadrimme, our minds cannot even comprehend its concepts. First, a question for you. Why do you wish to learn this Thu’um?”

“I like this world, and those in it.” My hand reached out and took hold of Lydia’s hand, almost on it’s own. “I don’t want it to end.”

“Pruzah. As good a reason as any. There are many who feel as you do, although not all. Some would say that all things must end, so that the next can come to pass. Perhaps this world is simply the Egg of the next kalpa? Lein vokiin? Would you stop the next world from being born?”

“The next world will have to take care of itself.”

“Paaz. A fair answer. Ro fus ... maybe you only balance the forces that work to quicken the end of this world. Even we who ride the currents of Time cannot see past Time’s end. Those who try to hasten the end, may delay it. Those who work to delay the end, may bring it closer. But you have indulged my weakness for speech long enough. Krosis. Now I will answer your question. Do you know why I live here, at the peak of the Monahven – what you name Throat of the World?”

“I presumed that as the last living dragon you liked mountains.”

“True. But few now remember that this was the very spot where Alduin was defeated by the ancient Tongues. Vahrukt unslaad. Perhaps none but me now remember how he was defeated.”

“It wasn’t with the Dragonrend Shout?”

“Yes and no. Alduin was not truly defeated, either. If he was, you would not be here today, seeking to ... defeat him. The Nords of those days used the Dragonrend Shout to cripple Alduin. But this was not enough. Ok mulaag unslaad. It was the Kel – the Elder Scroll. They used it to ... cast him adrift on the currents of Time.”

“Are you saying the ancient Nords sent Alduin forward in time using an Elder Scroll?”

“Not intentionally. Some hoped he would be gone forever, forever lost. Meyye. I knew better. Tiid bo amativ. Time flows ever onward. One day he would surface. Which is why I have lived here. For thousands of mortal years I have waited. I knew where he would emerge but not when. Time was ... shattered here because of what the ancient Nords did to Alduin. If you brought that Kel, that Elder Scroll back here ... to the Tiid-Ahraan, the Time Wound ... With the Elder Scroll that was used to break Time, you may be able to ... cast yourself back. To the other end of the break. You could learn Dragonrend from those who created it.”

“I wonder ... if this Elder Scroll has been lost for literally thousands of years, surely it can’t be a coincidence that some Skyrim vampires are seeking an Elder Scroll at exactly the same time that Alduin returns.”’

Paarthurnax raised his head. “The Volkihar still exist? That is indeed disturbing. Dov wahlaan fah rel. We were made to dominate. The dov are children of Akatosh. But I helped the ancient Nords against Alduin, against my very nature, because I was sick of what we had become. Even so, we are specially ... attuned to the flow of Time itself. The Volkihar are the children of a lesser God, Molag Bal, from the world he created within himself. He chose not to help Lorkhan and the Aedra in the creation of this world. But they are now here, in this world? If so, they would not want Alduin to destroy it, to start anew. They could not survive, not as we could.”

“Well, that helps me, then. They are supposed to be seeking an Elder Scroll that has been lost as well. But it doesn’t sound like it’s the same one. Mother told me one time that more than ten of them were known to exist, but due to the very nature of the scrolls themselves it was impossible to know exactly, like they didn’t want to be counted.”

“The Kel – the Elder Scrolls – exist outside of Time itself. She who hatched you is very wise for a jorre – a mortal.”

“That’s because she’s not. Mortal, that is. Not anymore.” I felt Lydia squeeze my hand in support. “I know your name, Paarthurnax, means in the dov tongue the Overlord of Ambition and Cruelty. You know me as Dovakhiin, Dragonborn or in our ... the dov tongue, the Born Hunter of Dragons. You said you helped the ancient Nords against Alduin. Help me against him now. But you should know my name, not what I am.”

“Your name is who you are, Dovakhiin. That is why you are here now, destiny being fulfilled. Learning the Words of Power, engaging in tinvaak ... conversation ... with me, something that has not happened in more than a hundred years.”

“My mortal name is Martina Grizé. My father was Martin Septim, last of the Septim emperors and the one who destroyed the Amulet of Kings, the gift from Lorkhan, to protect Tamriel from Mehrunes Dagon. My mother was his champion, and when men proved fickle at the moment of victory, she chose to leave Tamriel for another place. The Shivering Isles. She is not mortal now, for now she is Sheogorath, Daedric Lord.”

“Krosis. You truly are the Last Dragonborn. It is no wonder the Dragonblood flows so strongly within you. You are as much a child of Akatosh as I.”

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