The rain pelted the pair as they left Whiterun. Gaeolin lead the way, his hair sticking to his head. Auroth tossed a hood onto his to avoid the same discomfort.If the weather held like this, it would be a less than pleasant trip.
“If Inigo were here, he’d be having a wonderful time.” Gaeolin chuckled.
“He does seem to have strange pleasures…” Auroth grumbled. “I for one prefer being dry.” He would have continued this thought, had they not seen the flames in the distance.
Near the watchtower, a group of guards and Vigilants fought a dragon. The beast had them on the run, crawling upon the ground with it’s spine frills raised in a posture of intimidation. It lunged forward, snapping up a victim to devour as his comrades fled. Gaeolin swung his bow free, drawing back his arrow faster than one could blink. “Luft, Dovah!” He shouted as the missile leapt from his string. The dragon turned, just in time to catch the arrow in the nostril.
He reared up, spraying flames across the damp field. The guards and Vigilants turned to him, sending up a cheer as they recognized him. Auroth raised his hammer, a bright light bursting forth from it’s head. It washed over the men, inspiring them to face the beast again.
Despite the turn of the battle, the Dragon did not take to the air. It snarled, releasing fire against them. Gaeolin rolled to the side, his bow ready as he stood. His next shot struck a lucky spot, a gap in the creature’s scales just above the chest. The drake let out a pitiful whine, rearing in agony. Auroth ran in with his hammer, bashing the legs from beneath the dragon, causing it to fall on it’s back. Gaeolin drew his sword, jumping onto it’s exposed belly. He climbed to the chest, driving the blade into its heart.
Hot, boiling blood spilled from the wound. He leapt clear, watching as the body convulsed. As it grew still he could feel the power swelling within. The corpse burst into an inferno, tendrils winding into his body as he bowed his head. Auroth stood next to him, his hair waving in the unnatural wind of the soul.
“I don’t believe it…” The last living Vigilant approached them. “You slayed a dragon…”
Gaeolin turned to the man. “Are you okay?” His expression turned to sorrow. “Forgive us for not being here earlier. I wish we could have helped your friend…”
“He fought bravely, in Stendarr’s name,” the man looked to the dragon’s bones, “Carcette would have been proud. Thanks to you, I can tell the others of his courage.” The priest bowed, turning to head northward to the mountains. Gaeolin and Auroth stayed to heal the guards, setting off once more to the west as the last light began to fade from the sky.
“You have quite the reputation.” Auroth rolled his hood up, stuffing it in his bag. “Those guards probably would have joined you in the fight even if I hadn’t cast that spell. They clearly look to you for leadership.”
Gaeolin shied away from the words. “Ever since Mirmulnir, people in Whiterun seem to think I’m a leader. I don’t want that. I can’t take that kind of responsibility…”
Auroth scoffed. “You already have. Leaders don’t choose to be such, they rise to the challenge of the moment and rally their allies when needed. Appointed leaders are usually not worth the men they beat down. At least in the military…”
“What was it like being a soldier?” Gaeolin stepped onto a large boulder to get a better view of their surroundings. They had decided to forsake the road, cutting across the tundra in a straight line. “I’ve heard both good and bad things from a few people about the life.”
Auroth used his hammer to help lever himself onto the stone. “I suppose it depends on the soldier. For me, fighting a war I didn’t want or understand, it was unbearable. While I love a good fight, I feel that wars should have a greater purpose.” He scowled. “If Talos wasn’t a divine, it didn’t affect me in the least, nor would it if he was. From what I could see, it was all about power. The Meadian Empire was a threat to the Dominion interests. The high and mighty people of Alinor were always outraged at the idea of a human of all things being raised to divinity. After all, if any mortal being was closest to a god, was it not the Altmer?” He looked furious. “In the end, those in power bent that ideology, warped it to convince the masses that the Cyrodiilic Empire had to be cleansed. Talos worship was an affront. It was our duty to enlighten the younger races, help them see their mistake.” He was silent. “The thought disgusts me to this day…”
“I’m not sure I could be a soldier if that is how things work.” Gaeolin flexed his wrist, trying to get a slight pain out of it.
Auroth grinned. “It isn’t always.” He waved his hand over the vista. “Sometimes a war can have principles. This one, for example… The Civil War of Skyrim. Well, really it is the second Civil War. The War of Succession was the first. Fought in the name of freedom. Freedom to worship Talos, if that is a person’s desire. Freedom to determine your own fate. I have no real inclination to one side of the fight or the other, but I can respect that there are higher things at stake than the throne.”
Gaeolin pondered. “I don’t know who I would choose…”
“Whoever you feel is right, of course.” The answer wasn’t very helpful, and Auroth smirked to show that he knew it was not. “You will decide for yourself, when you have had time to think on it. And you might not find that you wish to be involved with it at all. I warn you though, it is hard to avoid being swept up in these events.”
“You’ve managed pretty well.”
The Altmer shrugged. “I also avoided civilization almost entirely. You can’t seem to keep yourself away from the thick of things.”
“Trust me, it isn’t on purpose.” Gaeolin froze. He felt the hairs rise on his neck. His ears caught the sound of wings. A roar blasted through the evening sky. One that filled him with fear…
He was soaring southwest, his wings black as pitch, and his scales glinting like ebony. Red eyes blazed, the clouds parting as if they too feared him. His gilded horns were unmistakable. The World Eater was here…
It was Alduin.
Gaeolin ran. His feet pounding the earth, racing after Alduin as fast as possible. Auroth followed behind, his hammer in hand. A circle of stone arches surrounded the mound, a column of eerie light ascending toward the clouds as Alduin banked around the burial site. He hovered over the mound as he spoke. His voice shook the earth. “Vuljotnaak! Alok! Slen Tiid Vo!”
His thu’um battered the long compacted earth, sending the soil into a cloud of shrapnel. Gaeolin and Auroth dove behind a stone to escape the rain of rocks. Gaeolin could hear the creaking of ancient bones rising from the mound. He and his friend rose to see the skeleton of Vuljotnaak absorbing the soil, his murky green scales shimmering with his master’s power.
“Alduin, thuri!” The drake spread his wings, his head bowing to the larger dragon. “Lost tiid meyz wah rel joor ol us?” [1]
“Geh Vuljotnaak, aari.” [2]
“Alduin!” Gaeolin shouted. Auroth looked at the elf as though he had gone insane. “Hi fen grind Dovah!” [3]
Alduin turned to him. A low growl rolled in his throat. “Nii hi. Hi lost ni mindos, mal Fahliil.” He pause, tilting his head to the side. “Nuz Dov hon grahhim wah Iizyolviing.” [4] He stared down the Bosmer. “He always was Mulaag… Powerful. I was surprised to hear of his failure. You may prove a worthy opponent, as ruthless as me in battle.”
Gaeolin felt his fury flash over at the comparison. “Come! Let’s see who will be the victor this time.” He loosed an arrow, Alduin beating his wings in time to rise above the shot.
“Vuljotnaak! Krii dar joore!”
His underling jumped from his former tomb, landing mere feet away from the two elves. He snarled, his teeth dripping with flames. He snapped at Auroth, the Altmer bringing his hammer around to bash the side of it’s skull. Gaeolin fired three shots, two landing in the soft area under the drake’s wing. He spun around to aim at the World Eater again. The dragon stared, taking in his breath.
“Vonun Gram Vokun!” The sky darkened even more, the clouds spiraling down above Alduin. They wrapped around him, his mouth agape as he let his fire free. In the moment of blindness, Gaeolin felt the damp rush of the clouds bursting outward. He was thrown back, landing on a stone with a crack of his spine. He gasped, struggling to stand. Alduin was gone. The perch he had been resting on bare in the aftermath of his shout.
Gaeolin cursed the dragon, turning to help his friend with the one that remained. He fired quick, his arrows peppering the scaly face. Auroth gripped his hammer tight, flames enveloping the weapon as he swung. The blow landed, cracking the scales of the crest, making Vuljotnaak screech. Gaeolin aimed, taking an eye. Auroth gripped his hammer like a staff, plunging the hilt into the ground.
Lighting burst from the strike, arching off of the wet stones and the dragon’s body. The beast shuddered as it’s life was burnt from it’s flesh by the shock spell. The souls sailed over the hill, winding into Gaeolin as the brief life came to an end. The Bosmer slumped onto one of the rocks. He let his bow hit the ground, his arm too weak to hold it any longer. Auroth came to sit by him, his pipe already in hand. Gaeolin grinned as his friend lit the herbs.
“Yeah, let’s set up camp here. I think we should rest a while after that.”
*******************************
Translated Lines:
1 ) Has the time come to dominate the mortals as before?
2 ) Yes Vuljotnaak, my loyal servant.
3 ) You will face me!
4 ) It is you. You have not learned, little elf. However, I have heard of your fight with Iizyolviing.
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