I just finished up the long volume II of this series, so I thought I'd start posting them both here. This entry is one of my first real stabs at writing out a tale and one of only a couple I ever finished. The dialogue is a little stilted and the chapters are short (needed more practice) so it isn't a long read. If you are interested in reading it, I hope you enjoy! (PS, I'm too lazy to proofread this one and I wrote in 2018, so if there are any spelling or grammar errors, I apologize in advance!)



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Prologue

The morning dew lay gleaming on the lush, green undergrowth of Cyrodiil’s Great Forest as the morning sun shined through the branches of its lofty trees. Deep in the heart of the woodlands, sat a small clearing and at its center lie a large rock, covered in silky green moss. Here upon this stone, sat an impressively large brown hawk - it looked far out of place among the other birds of the province, but it was not without purpose. Sitting as still as the unmoving stone beneath it, a wanderer could have mistaken it for a small statue to some long forgotten god.
Nestling its head into her wing feathers, she waited impassively for her prey. Soon thereafter, a crashing could be heard in the forests nearby. Quite suddenly, a pale, sickly looking Colovian emerged from the dense brush and scampered right through the clearing without so much as a glance at the large hawk.

Craning her neck, she listened for the pursuer she was expecting.

And sure enough, the gentle footsteps of a practiced stalker could be heard approaching the clearing, following the rampant destruction of the woodland left in the wake of the panicked, clumsy runner. The hawk lifted her head and waited for this new, but nonetheless expected visitor.

Ah, I see this predator is much too clever to wander into a forest clearing. The professional that he is knows to avoid such a thing, as it is ripe for ambush. Perhaps a little encouragement is needed…

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The mercenary did not like what he saw ahead. Peering through the bramble, he intensely surveyed the clearing, looking for any sign of an ambush. The vampire he pursued had thus far been crashing through the forest like an ogre, but that may have been a ruse. Vampires, he had always thought, were usually much cleverer than this oaf was.

Hesitating outside the clearing was wasting time, but his instincts were kicked into overdrive as he approached it. Long ago he learned to trust those instincts, and many times they had been the difference between life and death. So there he sat, eyes darting around the forest opening, searching intently for signs of danger.

Quite suddenly, the once calm morning changed as a brisk northern wind began to flow through the woods, rustling the treetops and bringing a slight chill to the air. Our mercenary barely noticed the change in clime, until he heard the whispers on the wind. Startled, he relaxed his eyes, and instead strained his ears to the wind, where he swore a voice had whispered to him. The breeze fluttered once more, and this time he was positive…his name was carried gently on the wind.

Kirin...approach my child. Follow your instincts…and my voice…

Standing up nervously, he shouldered his composite bow, and walked boldly into the clearing. To his utter surprise, the hawk he’d mistaken for a statue hewn above the boulder stretched its impressive wings, and spoke to him with an undoubtedly feminine voice.

“It is time for you to return home, my child. Skyrim awaits you, and your destiny has come. Left behind will be your days of mercenary work and feeble pleasures. They matter not now, and only what you accomplish next will be of any consequence.”

This was unexpected, and temporarily froze Kirin, as a million thoughts raced through his mind. He settled on only one, though.

“And if I refuse?”

“It will matter not. The aspect of destiny is inescapable, and utterly final. Try as you might, it will simply catch up to you later, at a time when you may have less choice in its subtleties. Heed my words, and I promise you will not regret the choice to follow them.”

Kirin pondered on her words once more, and quickly realized what he was dealing with. One should not refuse the finality of the divines… He removed his helmet, and knelt on the grass before the large northern hawk.

“Lady Kyne, I see the wisdom in your words, and I pledge myself and my service to you.”

“Very well, young Kirin. Your time in Cyrodiil is at an end. Return to your fellow brothers and sisters of Skyrim, and your true journey shall begin in earnest.”

She then spread her wings once more, and took to the skies above Tamriel, flying ever northwards.skies above Tamriel, flying ever northwards.

Fire and Darkness

Many years had come and gone since Kirin took the bitterly cold Pale Pass up into the Jerall Mountains, and down into Bruma. The weather hadn’t changed, but he was shocked to find Helgen a smoldering ruin. Memories of enjoying many mugs of Juniper Mead and getting into several bar brawls flooded in as he watched the smoke rise high above the walls. As he approached the northern gate, and immense black being took flight from somewhere in the city and flew east, paying little attention to the Nord standing out in the open.

Mouth agape, Kirin could only think of one thing…that ancient dragon lore didn’t seem much like fairy tales anymore. Eyes closed, he raised his head to the heavens and addressed his new patron.

“Lady Kyne, I see that much more than I expected is afoot in my home land. I only hope that I can rise to whatever occasion is laid out for me.”

A gentle breeze of encouragement fluttered through the area, rustling the leaves around Kirin, and uplifting his spirits. A fitting reminded that Kyne was ever watching over him.

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Sometime later, Kirin knelt beside the ruined body in the midst of Helgen. A small journal had survived the destruction, and the owner had managed to write down a last few words before being consumed in fire. It told of a cave beneath the Keep, and the possibility of survivors. Standing up quickly, Kirin hastened out of town, looking for an entrance to this cave. With the Keep to his right, he scoured the undercliff for any kind of ingress point. Only a few minutes had passed before he found what he was searching for, as Kirin came across a tunnel leading into the rock face.
He ventured forth, soon coming across a large cavern with a small stream babbling gently through it. A ray of light shone down through the rock ceiling, landing right on the injured body of an Imperial soldier. His armor denoted a man of some rank, and he looked to be in bad shape. Just before heading to see if he could help, Kirin spotted another man further in the cave. This time…an injured Stormcloak.

This presented a hard choice for Kirin, but not as hard as one would expect. He’d kept up on news from his homeland while earned a living in Cyrodiil, and knew all about Ulfric’s insurrection. Many days were spent pondering the subject, but in the end, Kirin knew where he stood. He just didn’t expect a need to make that choice so soon upon his arrival.

Grabbing a healing potion from his pack, he went to help the Imperial soldier to his feet.

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Hadvar was a good man, and Kirin felt a sense of kinship with the stout Imperial. The young officer had a good head on his shoulders, and in another life, they may have been good friends. But for now, Kyne had another purpose for Kirin, even if he didn’t yet know what it was.

In the meantime, Kirin set about to do what he did best. Help others to the best of his ability – but no longer as a mercenary. He had pledged to leave that part of his life behind, but his instincts still drove him onward, to some unknown end.

The town of Whiterun was a few hours walk to the north, and Alvor had asked Kirin to take word of Helgen to the Jarl, as soon as possible. Kirin agreed, but something deep inside told him to help out the local shopkeeper first. Thieves had broken in overnight and stolen a rare trinket - some sort of gilded dragon claw. The proprietors, Lucan and Camilla, even knew where the bandits had came from and that helped to eliminate a lot of legwork. Deciding to help them, Kirin followed Camilla out of town, to a small bridge over the roaring White River.

And so it was, that he ended up standing outside the large iron doors to Bleak Falls Barrow, sword in hand.

The Wheel Turns

Fighting his way through the ancient Nordic tomb was no easy matter, but Kirin handled it professionally. He had plenty of experience with the undead whilst exploring the extensive ruins of the lost Ayleids in Cyrodiil. Surviving a barrow in Skyrim was more about avoiding the various traps, and less about the numerous Draugr that walked the halls of the ancient fanes. The only real challenge was the Overlord at the end of the winding mass of corridors – and that was only because Kirin was caught off guard.

The moment he crested the stairs, and stepped onto the raise dais a slight breeze blew through the immense cavern, as the sound of chanting and the whispers of some long forgotten language began to flow towards him from the half-moon wall. It grew louder as he approached, drawing him in almost completely unconsciously. Kirin reached out to touch the glowing marks, but before he could lay his hand on them, his vision darkened and a burst of knowledge flooded from the wall, right into his mind. The sudden inrush of power, brought him to his knees but faded quickly. As quickly as it had come, it was now gone, and only whispers of what he learned could he remember.

Raising back to his feet, he slowly turned his attention back to Nirn, or more specifically, the large wooden chest that stood nearby him in the depths of Bleak Falls Barrow. Kirin walked towards it, but stopped in surprise when a sharp crack echoed through the cave. The lid had burst off of the carved stone coffin that lay nearby, and a rather large Draugr stood to face him. The Nord was not ready for what came next, as the ancient undead turned his gaze towards Kirin and uttered three short words, that nearly blew him off his feet. The hide shield he carried disintegrated under the force of power that rushed at him, as the echoing of thunder reverberated throughout the cavern.

Kirin was unprepared for what had hit him, but not inexperienced. He quickly noted the dark potion vial on the nearby embalming table, and recognized it as some kind of poison. Moving faster than the Draugr probably expected of him, Kirin deftly stepped towards the table, smashing the flat side of his blade on the vial, lathering it with the deadly concoction. It only took a single parry and several quick slashes of steel, before the Overlord fell back into his long, dark sleep.

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After the long adventure in the barrow, making the short journey back to Riverwood and Lucan was a sweet roll walk. The shopkeeper rewarded Kirin handsomely and welcomed the young Nord to his shop anytime he liked. Kirin bartered with Lucan for food and supplies, before striking back out on the road. He had to figure out what to do with the hefty stone tablet he found in Bleak Falls, but nary a soul in Riverwood had any clue to what it was.

The damned thing was heavy, and Kirin was going to leave it behind after he plucked it from the chest to examine it. But just as he began to set it back down, the same gentle breeze that ushered him towards the mysterious wall blew by him once again. ‘As you wish, Lady Kyne.’

And so there he was, lugging it towards Whiterun. Kirin reasoned that since he was already going there to warn the Jarl, he may as well stop in to see the court wizard. The wizards were usually well trained at their College in history and the oddities it contained – maybe this one would recognize the intricately carved stone.

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A few hours later, Kirin stood before the leader of Whiterun hold – Jarl Balgruuf the Greater, and his court. After informing them of the dragon issue at Helgen, Kirin stood back while they debated on what to do. He detested politics, and would have left right then and there had he not gotten a stern glance from the Jarl’s housecarl, Irileth. The Dunmer had a fiery look about her, and did not look like someone to disregard. A few moments later, Balgruuf addressed Kirin again.

"Well done. You sought me out, on your own initiative. You've done Whiterun a service, and I won't forget it.
The Jarl then rose from his seat, and handed Kirin a reward for his effort. A steel battleaxe with a nice enchantment on it. Kirin bowed short, and accepted the offer gratefully, even though it didn’t fit his preferred method of combat.

"There is another thing you could do for me. Suitable for someone of your particular talents, perhaps,” continued Balgruuf. “Come, let's go find Farengar, my court wizard. He's been looking into a matter related to these dragons and...rumors of dragons."

That suited Kirin perfectly, as he needed to speak to the wizard anyway. To his delight, Farengar’s job offer had been to retrieve exactly what Kirin was coming to see him about! The wizard was pleased, and had just begun to dismiss him when Irileth rushed into the chamber.

“Farengar! You need to come at once! A dragon has been sighted nearby! She then turned to look at Kirin, “You should come, too.”

Destiny Rising

The sun was beginning to set as Kirin, Irileth, and a detachment of guards jogged passed the Whiterun stables, turning onto the western road. Off in the distance, the Western Watchtower stood alone on the tundra, plumes of smoke rising from within and all around it. A sense of foreboding fell upon the small force, as they upped the pace towards the keep.
Just down the road from Whiterun, they passed a large house that appeared to be devoid of life. Kirin made a mental note to investigate it on the way back to town. ‘That is…if I survive whatever lies ahead.’

The crew stopped a small distance away from the ruined tower to survey the scene. There were still a few guards left around the keep, but it was badly damaged in the attack. Standing back up, they made their way towards the tower, and were soon spotted by a guard standing near the doorway.
He began to yell about the dragon still being nearby, but was cut short by a distant roar.

“Shor’s bones – here it comes again!”

What followed next was the single most harrowing experience of Kirin’s life. Alongside Irileth and handful of guards, they battled with the winged menace for nearly an hour. Arrows cut through the air and weapons clashed, as they whittled away at the stout hide of the immense beast. Finally the dragon landed, allowing them to rush it with sword, axe, and hammer – all swinging endlessly at its thick scales.

The defenders were quickly losing stamina, and after what seemed like forever, the dragon finally let out a dying roar, as Kirin’s blade pierced it’s underside with a killing blow. They all backed up hurriedly, trying to avoid its death throes, when, to their wonder, the great beast became engulfed in flame.

Kirin stood front and center, sword drawn in anticipation for whatever may come next. But he was not ready for the life force that came rushing out of the dragon, and absorbed itself directly into his own. The feeling was euphoric, as the knowledge and power of the dragon, Mirmulnir, flowed through Kirin’s mind and blood. Suddenly, the ancient power that he learned in Bleak Falls Barrow made complete sense, and he lifted his head to the sky and shouted a single word that echoed across the vast tundra, followed by a crack of thunder.

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The guards had been suitably impressed by Kirin’s powerful shout, but Irileth less so. She was a touch read, but Kirin didn’t mind it – she was a good ally to have.
Masser and Secunda had long since risen and shined brightly down upon him as he slowly headed back east to Whiterun. The empty house would have to wait for later…he had much to tell Balgruuf and more than anything else, Kirin just wanted to sleep. And maybe have a stout mead beforehand.

But he had survived his first dragon encounter, and that was all that mattered to him. The moment it was all over, he quickly thanked Kyne – before the guards started to awkwardly stare. What he didn’t expect, though, was for the elation of power to wear off so quickly… The rush of energy culminating in his Shout wore off fast, leaving Kirin to ponder whether or not his newfound ability was a good thing. It had its advantages, but he was also aware that his soul was no longer just his own. The life of knowledge and experience he absorbed from Mirmulnir also came with sorrow and fear.

The dragon never expected to be killed, and his waning moments were filled with dread. Kirin wouldl never forget that feeling, but his thoughts were cut short when a thunderous sound raced across Skyrim, and shook the very ground beneath his feet.

“DO-VAH-KIIN.”

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Dragonborn. That is what Kirin came to be known as in the peaceful town of Whiterun. As far as the people of the city were concerned, it fit nicely with his new title of Thane. The Bannered Mare was raucous that night, as everyone in town drank and cheered and sung about the Battle of the Western Watch and the coming of The Dragonborn.

Eventually Kirin managed to slip away with a mug of mead, and headed up to his loft room for well-deserved slumber. Not even the continuous clamor of the party below was enough to keep him awake, and he fell asleep quickly, while his new friend Lydia nodding off in the chair nearby.

Ooo what happened with the “vampire” in the prologue?

The whole time I’m reading this, I had “Call of the Wind” by Xandria playing in my mind, lol

Just a lost thread. Didn't seem very important to him after a literal god showed up.


A Gift from the Goddess

The Bannered Mare was quiet and still when Kirin awoke the next morning. Lydia was gone from her chair, and he could hear voices drifting up to the loft, alongside a sweet smell of berry and spice from whatever meal Hulda was concocting. Rising from the bed, he gathered his gear and walked downstairs into the main hall of the inn. Various partiers from the night before hadn’t made it home, and were still passed out on whatever soft bed they could find – be it a pile of hay or a fur rug.

Lydia was seated at a table near the bar, conversing with Hulda, the proprietor. As he slid into one of the other empty chairs they gave him a polite nod and continued talking while he dug into a berry crostata.

“I’m surprised you let these drunks loaf around here overnight, Hulda.”

“Oh, well, I normally wouldn’t, but it was a special occasion I suppose.” She glanced over at Kirin, “It’s not every day we have a hero in our midst, after all.”

Kirin swallowed a bite of crostata before replying, “I only do as Kyne guides me, Hulda. We all have her to thank for my return to Skyrim, so if you would thank someone, I would do so at the temple. My days of seeking glory are over.”

“Be that as it may, you still have found what you don’t desire. You should at least embrace it for the people – in these trying times, they need someone to look up to.”

One of the drunks began to stir in the corner and she rose to rouse him and usher the braggart out. He grumbled something about a headache as he pushed open the front door, and nearly fell over again when the bright morning sun beamed down on him.

Chuckling, Kirin turned back to his breakfast.

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A half hour later, he leaned back in his chair with his cup of herbal tea and began to contemplate on where his journey was taking him next. Ivarstead was a long walk, and High Hrothgar even longer. In his youth, Kirin had made the pilgrimage at the behest of his ailing father. Kroval was a deeply spiritual man, and wanted them to make the journey together when Kirin was of the right age. It was not a pilgrimage for the weak or weary, and many dangers lie upon the Seven Thousand steps of The Throat of the World.
Lost in thoughts of his childhood and family, he barely heard Lydia address him.

“So, you’re a follower of our Lady Kyne, Thane?” she asked, candidly.

“Kirin, Lydia. And yes, but it goes a little further than that. We talk about that later, though…for now I have only one question – what is going on with that empty house on the western road?”
“Oh, you mean Elysium Estate? Not much is known about it. It’s believed that the original owner as a patron of Kyne, much like yourself. The place is decorated with banners and tapestries adorned with her crest.”

This piqued Kirin’s interest immensely. “Oh?”

“Mhmm. No one has lived there in some time, though. Those that visit return emptyhanded, and sometimes a bit…different.”
“Different? In what way?” asked Kirin.

“Well, a few are touched in some way by Kyne…other refuse to talk about what they find. There is an air of mystery around the entire matter, so if you intend to go there yourself it’s my duty to advise against it.”

“Come now, Lydia – enough with talk of ‘duty’. You may have been assigned my housecarl, but you’ll learn quickly that I am not one for rigorous tradition.”

Lydia shrugged and got up from her chair. “I need to stop at Belethor’s before we leave. Do you need anything?”

“No. I’m a little overstocked as it is, and I will need somewhere to place it all before long. I’ll be waiting by the main gate.”

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The sun was approaching its midday stride when Kirin and Lydia met back up at Whiterun’s main gate. Kirin looked over his supplies once more to make sure nothing was missing, and then together they headed out through the gate and down the winding path towards the stables. At the road’s junction, Kirin turned west once again, heading for Elysium Estate.
“I take it your curiosity has gotten the best of you, my Thane?”

Kirin sighed. “Some habits are hard to break I suppose. But, yes, it has. It’s more than that, though…I believe that I am supposed to go there. My instincts have never steered me wrong, and that was before I had a goddess nudging them.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Kirin winked at her. “We’ll get to that later.”

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Soon after, they were walking down the path towards the wooden gate of Elysium. The place definitely did seem empty, but that’s what intrigued Kirin the most. Pushing through the gate, he looked around the yard and to his amazement, a ghost appeared off to his right, near the drinking well.
Before Kirin could decide what to do, the ethereal specter walked towards them, speaking in an otherworldly tone. She spoke of past owners and the Lady Kyne, who had domain over the estate. The ghost was once a caretaker for Elysium, and even after death had been tasked with keeping it up, until the right owner came to claim it. She instructed Kirin to go around the western side of the house, to pray at Kynareth’s shrine.

“If you are worthy, she will speak to you.”

And so around the other side of the house, Kirin and Lydia went. As they walked, Kirin gave her a reassuring touch on her shoulder. He could tell she was a little rattled, and that she was not ready for that particular outcome to the mystery of the estate.

They found the shrine under a small porch roof across from the stable. Kirin knelt before the shrine to prey, but had barely begun when Kyne’s voice rang in his head.

“You’ve done well so far, my child. You’ve proved yourself against the dragons, and learned about yourself – all while honoring me faithfully. But your true path has only begun to unravel. High Hrothgar awaits you, but before you depart for the lofty summit, speak to my priestess Danica in Whiterun. She has a task for you.”

“I will do as you wish, Lady Kyne. But I also have many questions for you.”

”And I will answer them in time. Do not fret, Kirin – we will speak again soon. In the meantime, enjoy this house as your own. You are my champion now, and it will suit your needs amicably.”

Kirin bowed his head in respect one last time, rose to meet Lydia. She had been watching him nervously while he communed with Kyne, and was pleased to see that he was well.

“Come, Lydia – we need to find The Caretaker once more….and get the key to my house.

The Road Less Traveled

Lydia waited impatiently in the dining hall of Elysium Estate, while Kirin unpacked his belongings and accustomed himself to the various amenities it offered. A couple hours later, he returned to the main hall, and poured himself a mead before joining her at the table.

“Go ahead and ask away, Lydia. Before you boil over!” Kirin chuckled.

“When were you going to tell me just how entwined you are with Kyne? Following her as a patron is one thing, but actively communing with A GODDESS is something else entirely, Kirin.”

“First of all, thank you for not calling me Thane,” said Kirin.

At that remark, Lydia shot him a look of daggers.

“Second – and this is important – I had to know I could trust you. I would attract all sorts of attention, wanted or not if I paraded around as her champion.”
“Champion! You’re not serious – are you?”

“Aye. That I am.” Kirin nodded, and then began to tell her of his encounter with the hawk in The Great Forest, and everything that led up to this point. By the time he reached the end, Lydia was suitably astonished.

“My word, Kirin – do you realize how bless you are? The Divines speaking to worthy people at their shrines is one thing, but to actually speak to an avatar of Kyne? I’d be surprised if such a thing has ever happened before.”

“I know, Lydia,” replied Kirin. “Which is why it’s something I do not share around. Now get yourself settled in for the rest of the day. Tomorrow we head back to town, but for now I will be out back, putting together some new gear at the forge.”

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Dawn broke as Kirin and Lydia walked quickly back to Whiterun, bound for the Temple of Kynareth. He had visited the temple on his first arrival to Whiterun for a quick prayer, but the priestess hadn’t been there at the time. Today, though, they found Danica healing a poor soul with a terrible injury from some needless skirmish out in the wilds.

Once she finished her incantation, Kirin approached her in conversation. They talked quietly while Lydia kept an eye on the door. It wasn’t long before Kirin accepted her request, and motioned for her to join him as they headed back outside.

“Did she have something for you, Kirin?”

Kirin nodded, “She did – but it will not be easy. We are tasked with restoring the Gildegreen to its former glory and our first step involves finding a specific dagger.”

“Well that doesn’t seem so bad,” said Lydia.

“No? You might find that opinion to be untrue, once we try to take Nettlebane from the Hagravens.”

“Hags? Oh dear…”

“My thoughts exactly.”

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The oppressive blackness of a cloudy night filled the air around the two friends, as they sat around a small campfire on the outskirts of Ivarstead. The journey there had been long and exciting, leading to a quiet dinner under the lofty fir trees at the mountain’s feet. The flames danced merrily as Kirin and Lydia each sat in their own thoughts, reflecting on was to come.

“We should turn in for the night, Lydia. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow, and the path up the mountain is no easy feat.”

“Have you made the climb before, Kirin?”

He nodded, “It was the last thing I did before departing for Cyrodiil. Father had always wanted to make the trip together, but he took ill when I was seventeen. After he passed, I felt it my duty to make the climb in his honor. I did not enter the monastery or even knock on its doors, but I did pray to Shor to allow Kroval safe passage to Sovngarde.”

“You still miss him, don’t you?” asked Lydia.

“Yes, of course. It’s been nigh on ten years, but it feels like only yesterday that we laid him to rest in the marshes of Morthal.”

“Morthal? You’re from Hjaalmarch? I didn’t know that about you.”

“And for good reason. I had a falling out with the Jarl before I left. I don’t even know if I’m welcome there anymore,” said Kirin.

“Well, things are different now, no? Soon enough rumors will spread of the coming of the Dragonborn, and you’ll be recognized everywhere.”

“I suppose so…but we may be getting ahead of ourselves. Only Balgruuf and some guards have given me that title. We need to see the Greybeards before we jump to any conclusions.”

And with that, Kirin stood and rolled out his bedroll before crawling into it, and gazing up at the sky. Lydia rolled out hers, as well, and nestled down inside it. She was soon fast asleep, leaving Kirin to lie in thought under the dark clouds. Feeling himself drifting off, he said a quick prayer to Kyne before he closed his eyes.

Once he finished, a swift breeze rolled across Skyrim, pushing the clouds out over the horizon and leaving behind the bright twinkling stars of Mundus. Kirin smiled, and thanked Kyne aloud before falling asleep.

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They hadn’t climbed very far before Kirin and Lydia both wished they were laying warm in their bedrolls again. The wind howled around the mountainside, blowing snow and ice around like icy pellets and wolves came bounding out of the gales, hungry for food. Stopping to rest an altar high on the southwestern slopes, they took stock of their food and water before heading back into the freezing winds.

It was nearly sundown before the storms finally subsided, leaving them with a clear path to High Hrothgar. Now they needed only to worry about whatever manner of creature dwells in the smattering of tree groves and rock outcroppings that remained ahead of them. After climbing well into the evening, they noticed that the wolf attacks seem to have dropped off entirely. Lydia was pleased with that, but Kirin suspected something worse.

And he was proven right when a hulking, snow-white Frost Troll leaped down from a stone shelf and charged them with alarming speed. The beast had the element of surprise in its favor, but once Kirin and Lydia regained their footing, they made short work of it. Attacking and feinting from both sides, the troll was soon overwhelmed and fell to its knees after Kirin severed a tendon in the back of its leg. Lydia finished it off with a quick thrust up under its jaw, and they both stumbled over to sit down under the stone ledge for a breather.

“What do you say, Lyds…do we camp out here for the night or carry on up? We are on the western slope, which means the monastery isn’t far off now.”

“Let’s continue on. It’s damn cold out here.”

Getting to their feet after a drink from the waterskins, they trudged on once more. Midnight approached as they finally climbed the final steps up to the entrance to High Hrothgar. Pushing the great wooden doors open, Kirin and Lydia stumbled inside, to find a robed figure walking towards them.

“So…a Dragonborn appears, at this moment in the turning of the age.”

A Brush in the Nettle

Two days later, Kirin sat at a table in the Vilemyr Inn contemplating over his mug of Black-Briar. Lydia was at the bar nearby, ordering a hot meal for the two of them. It had been a long trek back down the mountain, and they were both ready for a night of sleep in a warm bed. She soon returned with a platter of food to split between them, but didn’t yet address Kirin.

He’d been quiet and distant since they left High Hrothgar, bound for Ustengrav. Lydia suspected that Kirin wasn’t ready for a return to Morthal just yet, even though it would be unavoidable…but it seemed deeper than that.

After a few minutes, he broke the silence.

“I know you want to help, Lydia – but there is nothing to be done about it. It’s just something I’ll have to work through on my own.”

“That’s understandable. Sometimes just talking about it can help immensely, though. My prior charge used to bounce thoughts off of me all the time.”

Kirin said nothing, as he swirled the last few drops of mead around the bottom of his mug. For the last ten years, his life had been a solitary one. Moving on from town to town and from one job to the next left little time for friendships, and all of his contacts were little more than acquaintances. And yet, here he was, sitting with his housecarl – someone he considered a friend…unable to open up.

Lydia remained silent, but he could tell that she wished for more from him. Her plate of food sat untouched, even though she tried to give off an air of inattention.

With a sigh, Kirin spoke once again.

“So far, being a Dragonborn isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

Lydia looked sharply at him, listening raptly.

“The Greybeards may say otherwise, but all they do is sit up there on the mountain and meditate on the Thu’um. Everything they learn is self-taught with endless practice and pragmatism, and they have no idea what it feels like to absorb the life force of another being.”

He paused to finish off the last of his mead.

“It’s not just knowledge and power I gain – far from it. The memories and emotions of that dragon are also a part of me and it is overwhelming when they flow in. I know its sorrow and its joy. Its confidence and its doubt. Its love and its hate. No amount of meditating will assuage that experience, whatever Arngeir might say on the matter. I have to find a way to live with that, every time I take a dragon’s life – and so far… I’m struggling with just the one.”

A long silence lingered between the two of them when he finished speaking. Kirin sat wishing he had another bottle of mead to down, and was rising up to get another one, when Lydia grabbed his hand.

“Sit back down, my Thane.” She looked up at him sternly. “Drowning yourself in mead will not do anything but dull the pain.”

Kirin glared at her for a moment before lowering himself back into his seat with a laugh.

“How is it that we’ve only been together for a short time, yet you know to push all my buttons, housecarl.”

Lydia grinned, “It goes with the job. Now…off to bed with you! We’ve got another long journey ahead of us, and we’ll have plenty of time to talk more then.”

------------------------------------

The walk through the western edge of The Rift was pleasant as the sun shone down through the gold-red leaves of the endless birch trees that filled the forests of the peaceful hold. For Kirin and Lydia, the walk was too short, as they soon found themselves climbing up through the snow once more, as they wrapped around the mountain towards Falkreath Hold and Orphan Rock. The Hagravens and Nettlebane awaited them there, and Divines know what else they’d encounter. Just dealing with the hags would be taxing enough.

Soon that question was answered, as bolts of lightning streaked through the trees around them, and witches appeared on two fronts. Splitting up, Kirin and Lydia each took one of the witches before circling back around towards the tall rock, and fallen timber that led to the sacrificial altar where the Hagraven awaited them. Charging across with shields raised, they hoped to catch it off balance. But she was ready for them, until Kirin Shouted his two words of Unrelenting Force at her. The hag staggered backwards, buying time for the two warriors to rush in and subdue her quickly.

Kirin pulled Nettlebane from its deadly claws, before kicking the lifeless body over the rock ledge.

“I despise these creatures with all that I am. I do not know what God or gods they claim to serve, but sacrificing a living being should never be acceptable. Especially one that is under the protection of Kyne.”

He strapped the intricate dagger to his belt, and together they turned back towards the road. Whiterun was a long ways off yet, and the sun was already beginning to set.

------------------------------------

After walking for a few hours more, they stopped to make camp somewhere between Helgen and Riverwood. Once the fire was roaring away, Kirin set about skewing some of the salted meat from his pack, and mixing a pot of stewed vegetables. Lydia had wandered off to check out the surroundings, but soon retuned satisfied and with a faggot of wood.

“Doesn’t seem to be any bandits holed up nearby, so we should be safe to sleep without a watch. The fire will keep the critters away.”

Kirin nodded, “Works for me. I could use a few solid hours of sleep. I think we will stop into Whiterun tomorrow. Ustengrav isn’t going anywhere and we’ll need to stock up on supplies.”

“And give that dagger to Danica, I presume?”

“Of course – there is no need for us to carry it around forever. The last thing we needs is for it to get lost somewhere out on the tundra.”

“Whiterun it is then,” said Lydia. “Maybe Adrienne will have some new stock to check out. My sword is nicked up and on its last leg I’m afraid.”

Under an Ancient Sun

By the time Kirin and Lydia left Whitreun City, the sun had fully risen over the vast plains. The warmth from its rays beamed down over them giving a false sense of comfort from the chill air of the northern province. It also meant that any idea of hunting was out of the question, since any prey would sense them a long ways off on this clear summer day.

They made good time, though, since most of the tundra predators were also bedded down for the day. So far, only a hulking tundra spider had given them any trouble, but that trouble was well worth it – their venom was rare and made an excellent poison when applied to a weapon. Mid-afternoon approached, as Kirin guided them past the ruins of Silent Moon and continued westward.

This intrigued Lydia, since conventional wisdom was to take the northern path through Labyrinthian towards Hjaalmarch.

“Where in the name of Talos are you taking us, Kirin? The pass through Labyrinthian is back that way.”

“And it’s also filled with Frost Trolls. Trust me – as someone who grew up in Morthal, I know the best ways in and out. The route we are taking may be a bit longer, but it is substantially safer.”

“I hope you’re right,” said Lydia.

----------------------------

Kirin barely heard Lydia shouting at him over the roar of the dragon and the fire it cascaded down upon them.

“What was that about a safer route!”

Even in the midst of battle, Kirin couldn’t help but laugh. At least she was livening up from the always serious demeanor she carried out of Dragonsreach.

“You’ll note that I said ‘substantially’ – not completely!”

“I’ll remember that the next time we take a detour!”

The dragon continued its assault on the grassy slope, flying to and fro and all the while spitting its powerful Thu’um at the two Nords below it. Arrows whistled through the air, some hitting their mark and others sailing off through the trees. For over an hour this went on, until the dragon finally landed with an earth-shaking thud as the Kirin and Lydia rushed in from two sides to hack away at its scaly hide.

Roaring its head back in pain, it eventually let out a final shudder before collapsing to the ground and engulfing in flames. Kirin got down on one knee in preparation for the onslaught of life force that issued forth from ancient beast, flooding his body and soul. The world began to go dark, before he felt the sturdy grip of Lydia’s hand on his shoulder, bringing Nirn back into focus.
Getting shakily to his feet, sheathed his blade and moved to sit down on the nearest stump.

“You sure weren’t kidding around when you said the Greybeards have no idea what you go through is like. Even I could feel the power radiating of its dissipating body – and you looked to be
about a thousand miles away while it hit you.”

Kirin nodded. “I don’t think it is something I’ll ever get used to either.”

“I would be more concerned if you did get used to it,” said Lydia. “Kyne chose you for a reason, and your empathy towards the dragons may be exactly why.”

“I suppose that’s possible. But don’t forget…Akatosh also has a hand in this matter.”

----------------------------

The journey after that event was significantly less intense. After scaling Eldersblood Peak and making sure the dragon’s roost was empty, they began their descent down the other side of the mountain, towards Morthal. Along the way, Kirin reflected on the Word of Power they found on the half-moon wall at the mountaintop. It called to him just the way the wall in Bleak Falls Barrow had, and left only a partial understanding of its meaning imprinted in his mind.

Following the Way of the Voice would be somewhat necessary, it seemed. He’d have to learn to understand these partial words by mediating, or searching the memories of slain dragons. Neither idea appealed to him, so for now he put it from his mind and turned to the task at hand.

“I don’t want to linger in Morthal. I have no doubt that Igrod will recognize me, and that will only cause trouble.”

Lydia nodded in agreement, “Isn’t she some kind of mystic, though? Even down in Whiterun we heard rumors of her…eccentricities.”

“She is a gifted Seer, yes. All the more reason to move through quickly and before she picks up on me.”

Luckily, time was on their side, and it was well after dark when they approached the upper gate of Morthal. The moons were directly overhead as they approached their midnight zenith in the night sky, and all was quiet in the town, save for the patrolling guards. They heeded the travelers not, as Kirin and Lydia moved quickly though the small village and across the old stone bridge, an up passed the mill.

Once they were certain the made it through without attracting attention, they made camp on a stretch of marsh-land. This time however, they took turns on watch throughout the night.

A Call to Arms

Frustration couldn’t even begin to describe the sure of emotion that was coursing through Kirin’s body when he plucked the note off of Jurgen Windcaller’s ancient tomb. It took every ounce of restraint he had to not toss the note in the air and hack it to pieces with his longsword. Even Lydia, who was standing a few feet off to the side of the tomb could sense the anger pulsing out of her charge.

The slow crawl through the barrow had not been exceedingly difficult, but it had been long. Ustengrav stretched out for what seemed like miles underground, eventually culminating into a huge underground cavern with another word wall at its base. Draugr and skeletons patrolled the expanse in large numbers, never giving Kirin and Lydia a chance to rest.
And all that…only to find that someone else had come first and taken the Horn as bait to meet them.

“By the Nine, I will strangle whoever is playing this game with us,” said Kirin. “Now we have to walk all the way back to Riverwood.”

“Not necessarily,” replied Lydia. “Come on, there looks to be another way out down that tunnel. We’ll head back to Morthal and take the carriage to Riverwood. It will save us time, and give you a chance to cool down.”

“Tell me – why exactly should I cool down? We just risked life and limb for nothing. NOTHING!”

“I know, I know. But whoever did this is obviously skilled, and may have something important to tell us. Now hand me that note, before you rip it to pieces.”

-----------------------------

A day later, the carriage they rode stopped just outside of Riverwood and dropped off Lydia and a much calmer Kirin. The Sleeping Giant Inn was right near the village battlement, and so they went straight to it without stopping anywhere else. Kirin went to see Orgnar about a drink, while Lydia asked about renting the attic room. They hoped a little deception would give them an edge with whoever they were dealing with, so they decided Lydia would take the lead on the matter.

Kirin sat at the bar with a mug of Honningbrew while he listened to the innkeeper, Delphine, respond to Lydia’s inquiry.

“Attic room, eh? Well, we don’t have an attic room. But you can have the one on the left.”

Lydia thanked her, and headed for the specified room. Shortly after, Delphine followed her in and shut the door. Kirin heard muffled voices, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. A few moments later, Delphine and Lydia both came out of the room, and headed across the inn to the largest room at the back. Lydia glanced at Kirin and winked, letting him know to follow.

Delphine seemed to have taken the bait, but now Kirin had a new challenge. How to follow them through what was obviously the innkeeper’s bedroom without attracting Orgnar’s attention. He reckoned that he would handle the burly barkeep in a fight, but he rather liked the man and didn’t want to hurt him.

Thinking quickly, made a move to grab his coin-purse and knocked over his mead bottle in the process, spilling out its honey-colored contents all over the bar and down behind it. He apologized to Orgnar with a slight, faked slur and when the he bent down to wipe up the mess, Kirin darted into the bedroom. He’d heard the wardrobe open and shut, so he knew where to look. Sliding back the false panel in it, Kirin slowly crept down the stairs to find Delphine waiting with an amused look on her face.

“Finished playing around up there? Maybe now we can get down to business.”

Lydia sat on a chair nearby with a bored look on her face.

“So, I guess you didn’t buy her as the Dragonborn?” said Kirin.

Delphine chuckled, “Not quite. I knew who I was looking for when I took the Horn from Ustengrav. Lydia has it, by the way. I gave it to her to show that I just wanted to talk.”

“Well, you have me here, now. What is so important that you felt the need to waste our time?”

-----------------------------

Kirin wasn’t any happier than he was when they found the note deep inside Ustengrav. He had his own things to deal with before going off on some wild goose chase with Delphine to prove to her something that he already knew. And that was why he decide to make her wait for him at Kynesgrove, while he and Lydia returned to High Hrothgar.

The climb wasn’t any easier than last time, but the animals they encountered last time hadn’t been replenished by nature yet, so the climb was less dangerous. Once at the summit, the Greybeards allowed him to learn the final word of Unrelenting Force, and gifted their knowledge of the word to him. Now all that remained was to formally recognize him as Dragonborn.

Kirin stood at the center of the main chamber, bracing himself while Lydia stood in the back near the shadows and watched. All four Greybeards then began their incantation.

“Lingrah krosis saraan Strundu'ul, voth nid balaan klov praan nau. Naal Thu'umu, mu ofan nii nu, Dovahkiin, naal suleyk do Kaan, naal suleyk do Shor, ahrk naal suleyk do Atmorasewuth. Meyz nu Ysmir, Dovahsebrom. Dahmaan daar rok.”

Once they ground beneath their feet quit shaking, the other three Voices filtered off, leaving Arngeir to talk to Kirin. In her corner respite, Lydia sat with her head in her hands, waiting for the ringing of her ears to subside. Kirin excused himself from the Master, and tended to his companion.

In The Arms of the Elder’s Gleam

Kirin and Lydia stayed in High Hrothgar for several days to rest up. Lydia’s hearing recovered slowly, while her charge learned more about the Way of the Voice, and conversed with Arngeir on a great many subjects. He was thirsty for knowledge and always seeking their advice on what to do about the dragon souls he absorbed. It wasn’t long before his meditation reflected in on what he sought – the knowledge and understanding of the words Kirin had learned from the walls at Eldersblood Peak and Ustengrav.

Dawn came on the morning of their departure, as Arngeir gave Kirin one last parting word.

“Breath and focus.”
And so hey set back out to scale down the mountain once more. Having made the trip a number of times now, they were much more adept at the climb, and soon descended down into Ivarstead, across the bridge and east out of town.

Eldergleam Sanctuary was their destination, followed by Kynesgrove. Retrieving the tree sap for Danica was more important to Kirin than rendezvousing with Delphine for her dragon witch-hunt. The Greybeards had provided them with a new map they drew up from their lofty perch on the mountain, and it was much more detailed than the one Kirin had from his youth. It depicted a nice path down from The Rift, into the lowland hot springs of Eastmarch, where the sanctuary lie.
“Have you ever been to Eldergleam, Kirin?” asked Lydia.

“No, I wasn’t even aware of it. I knew of the Gildergreen in Whiterun, but when I left ten years ago, it was still living. I had no idea it was cutting from a much older tree. What about you?”

“I visited many years ago, with Jornir.”

“Oh? You haven’t mentioned him before – was he a friend?”

“Yes and no,” she replied, solemnly. “Jornir was my previous charge, and the last Thane of Whiterun. He was a brave warrior and an excellent mentor. But he passed away a few years ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Kirin. He placed his hand on her shoulder. “If he was as honorable as you say, then he surely drinks in Sovngarde with Shor.”

“I’d like to think so, because he did not die an honorable death. Instead he got piss-drunk and fell off of the Jarl’s balcony in Dragonsreach. So you’ll forgive me if I frown at the sight of you draining tankards of mead.”

Lydia didn’t say anything after that and neither did Kirin. An understanding had passed between them, and they both had plenty to think about while they trekked across the hot springs.

---------------------

Several hours later, they sat resting outside the entrance to Eldergleam Sanctuary. Passing a quick meal between themselves, they chatted aimlessly about the past and what lie ahead. Being so close to Kynesgrove, Kirin thought it necessary to head there next, to meet Delphine. Windhelm wasn’t much further, and such a large city no doubt had a carriage service in case they needed to hightail it somewhere else. Once they finished eating, they set about repacking everything before heading into the cave mouth.

“Any idea what we’ll find in here, Lydia?”

“Only a large tree and some worshipers of Kyne. This is a peaceful place of nature – nothing more, and nothing less.”

“Good. I could use a break from all the excitement we seem to find.”

“Truer words have never been spoken.” She motioned to the cave with her hand, “After you, my Thane.”

---------------------

Lydia was absolutely correct when she told Kirin that it was a peaceful place of worship. The sanctuary was idyllic and serene like nothing he’d ever seen before, and Kyne’s radiance flowed through every corner of the immense open-air cavern. A winding path lead up to the interior summit where the massively ancient Eldergleam tree grew from the bones of the earth. The sacred tree dwarfed any other that Kirin had ever laid eyes on, including the old trees of the southern Blackwood.

They began the short climb up to it, stopping talk to the pilgrims that lay among the grassy slopes and babbling streams of pure, clear water. All were giddy and eager to bless the fine day and the beautiful sanctuary they found themselves in. Towards the top of the winding path, though, they encountered their first obstruction.

Huge roots from the Eldergleam had worked their way out of the earthen soil, stretching their way across the only pathway up to the tree’s base. Unsure of what to do, Kirin reluctantly unsheathed Nettlenbane from his belt, and raised it for a strike.

“Are you sure about that?” said Lydia. “Attacking the tree of your matron doesn’t seem like a smart move.”

“Aye. But what else can we do?”

He hesitated before lowering the blade on the root, but a gentle breeze blew past that ruffled his hair and gave him all the encouragement he needed. Slashing downwards gently, Kirin nicked the root as slightly as he could, and to his and Lydia’s utter surprise, it shook loose and withdrew from the path. Continuing up, he repeated the action twice more, until they were at the summit, face to trunk with the oldest living tree on Nirn.

They stared up at it for a few moments, entranced with its great beauty, before the screeching call of a hawk rang throughout the caverns. Right before their eyes, the same great brown hawk that Kirin met in The Great Forest of Cyrodiil alighted down from the upper branches of Eldergleam and landed on the ground before them.

Kyne’s Truth

Kirin immediately knelt down, and Lydia followed suit. They both kept their eyes locked to grass, as Kirin address the Lady Kyne.

“You honor us with your presence, my Lady. Had I known you would be here yourself, I would have come much sooner.”

A gleaming flash of the whitest light filled the air around them, bursting through every branch of the old tree, and every nook and cranny of the sanctuary cavern. Kirin and Lydia closed their eyes against its intensity, waiting for the staggering brightness to fade.

Within a few moments, the light subsided and Kirin opened his eyes when he heard gentle footsteps moving towards him in the grass. A warm hand then rested atop his head with a soft touch, and the voice of an ancient, powerful being issued forth from the mysterious figure, asking Kirin to stand.

“Rise, my child.”

The stout Nord stood up from his kneeling position and looked upon the Goddess Kyne, in her pure form. Light seemed to radiate from every fiber of her being, and a gentle wind constantly rustled her long dark hair. She was clothed in robes of a deep sky blue, but the fabric seemed alive all on its own, shimmering and changing like the living sky above them. Songbirds flew gently around here, landing here and there sing their chorus of joy and basking in the warmth that radiated from the Divinity that loved them and all manner of nature’s life.

“You need not bow before me when I visit, Kirin. You have proven your faith to me already, and your companion has proven her loyalty, to you.”

Kyne the turned towards Lydia, “You may rise, too, child. Fear not my presence, but embrace it as you would embrace the presence of your own patron, Talos.”

Lydia bowed her head, and thanked the Goddess for kindness and acceptance.

“Of course, my dear. Now – Kirin…I sense you have much to ask me?”

“I do indeed, Lady Kyne. But I feel that only one of my questions is truly important… How is this possible? You first appeared before us as the very hawk I met all those months ago, and yet now, you stand before us in your pure being. I mistook you for an avatar when you spoke to me as your ancient symbol – speaking through a bird as one would expect the Divines to do.”

The Goddess did not answer right away, but instead turned and began to walk slowly the summit and her tree at the middle. She did not seem angry, as she did so with a faint smile on her face. And then suddenly, she began to sing as the birds do. A beautiful chorus of song that filled Kirin and Lydia with wonder at the most serene music they had ever heard and will ever hear. The birds that flitted about the cavern joined in, and soon the very walls echoed with the joy of Kyne’s Song.

And then she stopped. The many birds fluttering around Eldergleam all nestled into its branches, as the Lady Kyne approached Kirin and Lydia once more.

“Forgive me for delaying you an answer, but first I had to – encourage – the other denizens of my Sanctuary to leave. They are devout followers of my way, few are ready for the truth of my being here.”

She waved her hand, and around table laden with food suddenly appeared in the beneath the boughs of the ancient tree. Three chairs surrounded the homely white table, and The Goddess motioned for them to sit down with her.

“Please, enjoy yourselves. I know that you hunger for food and thirst for water. Do not let my presence stop you from satiating yourselves.”

Kirin and Lydia bowed their heads in respect, before digging into the delicious food spread out before them. Kyne watched with an amused look across her pleasant features as the two friends went at their meal with a zest. They ate and drank their way across the table for near one half of an hour before they were full and satisfied from the delicious meal that Kyne had conjured up for them.

Certain they were finished, her smile widened and she turned her attention back to Kirin’s lone question.

“Now child, as for your question about my presence here on Nirn, or – and perhaps more specifically – here beneath the Eldergleam with you.”
Kirin nodded, with a look of boundless curiosity on his face.

“The truth of the matter is simple… I never left. Scholars, historians, and zealots have preached for thousands of years that we Divines fled to Aetherius in our entirety, once we learned of our sacrifice to Nirn’s existence. But after what they did to my husband Shor, I could never leave this place. I aided him fully in his endeavor and Nirn is as much a part of me as it was a part of him.”

A moment of silence followed her words, as Kirin and Lydia dwelled on their newfound knowledge. They were stunned to think that Divines could still be among them, their very existence a secret. Surprisingly, it was Lydia who broke that silence.

“Forgive me Goddess, but I’m curious – are there other Divines that remain here on Nirn?”

Kyne smiled gently. “There are, but that is a matter for another time. At this moment, you need only concern yourself with me, for I will be guiding Kirin and yourself down the winding road that lies before you.”

She then turned her attention back to Kirin, “and that road continues in Kynesgrove.”

At that statement from his Lady Kirin groaned, causing Kyne to softly laugh.

“Now, now, Kirin. I know you are not happy with how she has used you thus far, but she walks the correct path towards understanding – even if it is for the wrong reasons. I ask that you meet her in Kynesgrove, so that you too may begin to unravel the mystery of the dragons.”

“I will of course do as you ask, Lady Kyne,” bowed Kirin. “Forgive me, as it was not my place to doubt you.”

“Nonsense, child. I told you when I appeared before you that you need not bow. You also need not worship me as you do. I have chosen you to be my champion, and also my son. All I ask is that you love me so.”

And with that, the Goddess arose from her seat at the table, giving them one last smile before she vanished in a flash of light. Kirin and Lydia both stood and watched, as the large brown hawk flew up and out of the break in the cave ceiling.

“As you wish…Mother.”

Resurrection

The trip to Kynesgrove was an uneventful one. Kirin and Lydia mostly walked in silence, still in partial disbelief at their encounter beneath The Eldergleam. It seemed surreal in hindsight, but nonetheless, both of the Nords felt truly blessed to have been there. But Kirin understandably wished it had been a longer experience. He was able to ask the one question he considered most important, but a multitude of other questions for the Goddess remained.

‘Maybe next time,’ he thought.

----------------------------------------

Darkness was beginning to overtake Skyrim, as the sun lowered itself gracefully into the western sky. Kynesgrove was just ahead of the two friends, and they soon were walking up the stone path towards the small town’s inn. Delphine awaited them outside of it, and quickly ran up to them as they approached.

“Something’s wrong,” she said.

That seemed to be an understatement. The innkeeper, Iddra, also came running towards them shouting about a dragon attack. In that same moment, the weather took a drastic turn, and the once clear evening turned into a fierce snow storm, with driving winds. With no time to waste, the three of them headed through town and started up the windy path to the summit above Kynesgrove. As they climbed, they could hear the roar of a dragon, and echoing of thunder as it spoke in its ancient language of power.

Once the ground evened out, they found themselves face to face with an unwelcome site. A massive black dragon that Kirin recognized immediately, seemed to be Shouting some sort of necromantic incantation at an old dragon mound.

And then, right before their very eyes, the ground shook as a skeletal dragon burst through the surface of its grave and crawled out towards its raiser.
“Alduin, thuri! Boaan tiid vokriiha suleyksejun kruziik?”

“Geh, Sahloknir, kaali mir.”

Kirin, Lydia, and Dephine watched on in horror and amazement as the newly risen dragon began to reconstitute itself, and was soon covered completely with its hide, as if it had never been slain. The great black dragon then turned its head and looked right at them.

“Ful, losei Dovahkiin? Zu'u koraav nid nol dov do hi. You do not even know our tongue, do you? Such arrogance, to dare take for yourself the name of Dovah. Sahloknir, krii daar joorre.”

He then flew off, leaving the newly raised dragon, Sahloknir, to attack the three onlookers. It was as harrowing a fight as any, but Kirin was getting the hang of fighting these beasts, and Lydia wasn’t far behind. Delphine seemed to struggle a little bit, but she held her ground and released arrow after arrow into the dragon.

Before long, it was ready to go right back into the burial mound from whence it came.

----------------------------------------

A few days later, Kirin and Lydia sat around the dining room table at Elysium. They were due to meet Delphine back in Riverwood later that day, but needed the break and a long bath. Dragon fighting in particular had a way of upping the adrenaline levels and really making a combatant sweat quite profusely.

The home cooked meal was also a much needed event, and together they damn near prepared a feast for the two of them. Roasted leg of goat hit the spot nicely, followed by the coveted sweet roll and a stiff glass of Colovian Brandy.

“Anything we need to grab before heading back out, my Thane?”

Kirin groaned. He knew that at this point she was just teasing him, but ignored it for the most part.

“Nah. I just need to sharpen my blade on the grindstone before we go.”

Lydia nodded. “Yeah, me too. Dragon hide is tough, and I think I’ve just about ruined another steel sword. Do you think we have time to stop in Whiterun for a new one?”

“I suppose so,” said Kirin. “But do you really want to buy another one? At this rate, you’ll be out of gold within a month. Come out back with me when we’re finished here, and I’ll see what my stock of ore and leather looks like. I might be able to fashion something up for you.”

The Sleeping Giant

Lydia sheathed her newly minted Dwemer blade after felling the final wolf of the pack that was straddling the road in to Riverwood. It came through unscathed, which was a testament to the deadly simplicity of dwarven design, and the skill Kirin had used to smith it.

“I’m sorry to say it but, this is a much better blade than anything I’ve purchased from Adrienne. You are quite the amateur smithy, Kirin.”

“Thank you. It’s a trade I’ve always practiced, going all the way back to when I sharpened axes for da.”

Quite suddenly, their conversation was cut short by the familiar roar of dragon reverberating off the mountainside and down through the small village. The townsfolk immediately ran for their homes, as the guards formed ranks with eyes to the sky. The two Nords joined in to the defense, with Kirin Shouting a quick word of power to let the guards know they had a strong ally on their side.

They rallied around him as the dragon swooped down, releasing a cascade of fire over the small defense group. Arrows poured in to it for nearly ten minutes, but they were beginning to run scarce. If the dragon didn’t land soon, Riverwood didn’t stand much of a chance. Luckily, a well-placed shot from Lydia caused the beast to roar in pain, causing it to land right in the middle of the village.

Without hesitation, Kirin bounded forward with his sword at the ready. The dragon began to laugh at the sight of the lone Nord charging him, but it was quickly stifled as it bore the full brunt of Kirin’s voice and staggered backward at its force. Inspired by his reckless bravery, Lydia and the guards charged in and surrounded the dragon, hacking at it from all sides. It died quickly after, and Kirin sat on steps of the nearby inn, as the life force of the dragon poured in.

------------------------------

Delphine pushed her way through the door of her inn about three hours later. She found Lydia in the corner, made straight for her.

“Another dragon attack, and this time right outside? We really do need to get to the bottom if this and fast.”

She paused, and looked around. “Where’s Kirin?”

“Asleep in the second room. He’s been hiding it well lately, but absorbing the life essence of a dragon really takes it out of him. The power is overwhelming and there is a whole other issue that no one else considers. But that’s his business, and he will talk to you about it if he wants to. For now – let him sleep.”

------------------------------

Kirin woke from his slumber a good while later, only to find the inn quiet and dark. Lydia was nodding asleep on the chair nearby, but roused herself quickly when she heard Kirin stirring. As he got up and began to put his armor back on, Lydia went out to brew a pot of tea and pack up some pastries for the road. Upon her return to the room, Kirin was ready to go.

“All set boss? We can head for Solitude whenever you are ready.”

“Solitude? What about our rendezvous with Delphine? Is she here yet?”

“She’s back, but I already talked to her about our next move. You’ve been out of it for near 10 hours, and she was getting impatient.”

Lydia went on to explain in detail where they were going and what they’d be doing. They had to move fast, though, since Solitude was a long way away, and the Embassy party was in two days. Malborn would be waiting for them at The Winking Skeever, with Delphine not far behind.

------------------------------

The journey north was long, and they encountered many obstacles along the way, including another dragon resurrection. Kirin handled the end result much better this time, and only needing to rest for a few moments before they were underway again.

Solitude did not offer a good first impression when they arrived. Walking into the middle of an execution is not a welcome first sight, and they didn’t bother to stick around for it. Instead, they headed right for the inn and looked for the Bosmer contact Delphine had arranged. Malborn sat at a table near the back, and got right to the point when Kirin and Lydia introduced themselves.
Kirin was uncomfortable parting with his gear, but did so willingly. Malborn would smuggle it in for him and together they would meet up during the party at the first chance they got.
A few moments later, Kirin and Lydia were walking down towards the stables.

“I don’t like this, Lydia. I feel naked without my mail.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. Besides, how do you think I feel knowing that I won’t be there to help you? Delphine will probably drive me up the wall, but I’ll be a nervous wreck while I wait for you back in Riverwood.”

Seeking Knowledge

Upon arrival, Kirin met a personable Redguard named Razelan outside of the embassy. He was a regular party-goer who accepted the Dominion for what they are and kept relations with them in the interest of business. Razelan was also a drunk, as evidenced by him already being intoxicated before even going in to the party. Kirin kept that in mind, because a friendly drunk can be very useful.

After presenting his dubious invitation, Kirin climbed up the outer stone steps and pulled open the iron reinforced wooden door and stepped into the Embassy vestibule. A tall female Altmer immediately walked toward him to introduce herself and the first thing Kirin though was, she wears way too much makeup.

"Welcome. I don't believe we've met. I am Elenwen, the Thalmor Ambassador to Skyrim. And you are...?"

Kirin greeted her and spoke amicably to her for a few moments before she was called away by the bartender, Malborn. Afterwards, she excused herself and went back to hosting her party. Not wanting to jump the bow on this operation Delphine cooked up, Kirin decided to mingle with some of the guests for a while, so as to not draw any suspicion. After speaking to various dignitaries for small bit of time, he made his way back to Razelan, who by this point in time was very drunk, and cut off from the bar as a result.

Spotting an opportunity, Kirin brought a drink to him as a way to butter up the inebriated Redguard even more. It didn’t take much convincing, though, and before long Razelan was causing one Sithis of a scene in the middle of the party. Malborn and Kirin quickly darted into the kitchens, where the wood elf directed him to his gear, and a door into the rest of the Embassy.

-----------------------------------------------------

Getting past the Thalmor patrols wasn’t easy, but it was manageable. Dealing with Rulindil and the other elf in the interrogation chamber was dicey, though, and Kirin barely managed to save Malborn’s life when two more guards showed up with him in tow. The end result was a mad dash back to Riverwood with the news that the Thalmor were searching for another former Blade named Esbern.

Delphine was overjoyed that the old man was still alive.

"Esbern? He's alive? I thought the Thalmor must have got him years ago. That crazy old man... Figures the Thalmor would be on his trail, though, if they were trying to find out what's going on with the dragons."

He was an archivist for the shadowy organization for a number of years, and was quite possibly the last remaining expert on dragons and dragonlore. In other words…Kirin and Lydia were now off to Riften.

-----------------------------------------------------

“I’m glad you made it back alive, my Thane,” said Lydia. “And I’m glad you made it back before I strangled Delphine.”

Kirin chuckled. “She can be hard to deal with sometimes. But Delphine is valuable to us nonetheless, and I will continue to follow Kyne’s path.”

And that path now led them through the dense birch trees of the Rift hold. Their journey was a slow one, as they contended with rain and what felt like near constant bear attacks. Sunny days didn’t speed them up either, though – they instead found themselves stopping to enjoy the beauty of the southern forests and relaxing under the vibrant colors of the fall foliage.
The Rift always had a special place in Kirin’s heart, and had the Lady Kyne not gifted him Elysium, he likely would have settled upon making a home for himself somewhere amongst the dense trees he and Lydia now walked beneath.

He was particularly lost in these thoughts when Lydia noticed the far way look in his eyes.

“Is everything alright, Kirin? You look a thousand leagues away.”

“Oh, I’m fine. Just thinking about life, and how things don’t always turn out how you expect. I always imagined settling down in here in the Rift someday, but now that I have Elysium, I’ll likely never need anything else.”

“Funny how things work out, eh?” mused Lydia. “I thought I’d never get out of Dragonsreach and Whiterun, and now….here I am – charged to the Dragonborn and the chosen son of Kyne.”

Kirin nodded before beginning to pack up his gear again.

“Better get to it, Lyds. We’ve got another day or two before we reach Riften.

Vagrants and Vermin

After numerous stops along the way, Kirin and Lydia were finally fast approaching the capital city of the Rift. Riften lie just ahead, beyond the tree line, and all was quiet among the early morning emanating from Lake Honrich. They were making good pace towards the southern entrance of the walled town when they heard the screeching call of a hawk from somewhere far above. Stopping to wait in anticipation, they looked skywards and spotted the great brown hawk gliding amongst the break in the trees over the road.

The hawk flew began its downward descent, gently landing on the ground before them.

“Good Morning, my child.”

Kirin bowed. “Hello, Lady Kyne – er – Mother. What brings you to us in this unexpected visit?”

“I must not tarry while others are about, so this will have to be a short visit. When you enter Riften, please visit the Temple of Mara. The clergy of my Sister are always ready to help those who seek Mara’s blessing, and it is a noble blessing indeed. My Sister can help you with your journey if you help spread her glory.”

“Then the Temple shall be our first stop, my lady,” said Kirin.

“Thank you, Kirin. Now I must be off, but do not hesitate to call on me if you ever seek guidance, child. I will always hear your prayers.”

Kyne spread her impressive wingspan, and quickly took flight once more – just as a patrol guard rounded the corner. He gave them a puzzling look, but said nothing and Kirin and Lydia resumed their walk towards the city gates. They were stopped unexpectedly, though, when trying to enter the south gate. The guard on duty told them to go around or get lost, which Kirin found highly suspicious.

“What do you reckon, Kirin?” said Lydia.

“In Riften? Extortion. I’ve no doubt that most of the guards here are dirty in more ways than one.”

And that proved to true, when the lout guarding the northern gate tried in vain to shake them down. Kirin called him immediately on the fool’s idiotic plan to harass travelers, and soon enough they were heading to the Temple.

----------------------------------

Leaving the Temple of Mara with a new task, they set it aside for the more prominent one that had brought them to Riften in the first place. Luckily, the innkeeper was in good spirits and in hushed tones, told them where to find the Ratway on the lower walkway of the city. Down at canal level, the city had a particularly foul odor, and Kirin and Lydia found themselves walking rather quickly to the gate that led them into the sewers.

The dank, wet smell that greeted them beyond the first wooden door nearly made them retch.

“Why in Divines name would anyone want to have a bar in a foul smelling pit like this?” gasped Lydia. “This is the foulest air I’ve ever had the misfortune to breathe!”

“I suspect the guild likes it that way...less chance of someone bothering to put a stop to them.”

Marching on through the dark, rank tunnels they soon found themselves in the Ragged Flagon – the infamous hang out of the Thieves Guild. The bartender was decidedly less amicable Keerava had been, but he helped them nonetheless. Probably just to get the two Nords out of their hair! Every eye in the place watched them closely while they stood defiantly among the Ratway’s finest, asking about Esbern.

Kirin passed the bartender a bag of gold, thanked him, and led Lydia through the nearby door that led deeper into the sewers.

----------------------------------

It took a little convincing but soon enough, Esbern began to unlock the various bolts and chains that locked his heavily reinforced door off from the rest of the vagrants infesting the Ratway Warrens. He let them in and quickly slammed the door behind them, and asked them to explain what they were doing there.

After Kirin explained why they were seeking him, Esbern went on to say that none of it mattered, now that Alduin had returned. As he saw it, the situation was hopeless, and they were all doomed. But that somber mood changed quickly, once Kirin told him that hope was not lost, and that the gods had sent a final Dragonborn to Nirn.

“This changes everything! We must go – quickly now. Take me to Delphine! We have much to discuss!”

And so, a few moments later they were heading back out into the Ratway, only to find the Thalmor waiting for them. The haughty elves couldn’t resist shouting a few insults before attacking, and that only made things worse for them, now that Kirin and Lydia knew where they were. The armored and robed Altmer were not ready for the onslaught that the two Nords threw at them, with Esbern bringing up the rear. The old man was a competent mage, and not nearly as old and feeble as he looked. A hulking frost atronach of his summon pushed past Kirin and Lydia providing an excellent distraction for their swords.

Before long, the Thalmor lay dead around them, as they jogged towards the surface at a quick pace, in case more of the elves were on their way. Nothing more met them on the way out, except for a single Khajiit assassin that fell quickly to the three companions and the guards of Riften. Within moments, they were seated on a wagon and bound for Riverwood.

Reaching for the Sky

Kirin and Lydia were relaxing in the outdoor bath of Elysium with a plate of food and a bottle of wine when Lydia began to chuckle.

“Just who long do you plan on making them wait, my thane?”

“Not long, my housecarl,” he winked. “But we’ve earned the chance to relax at home for a day. Besides – we are both in desperate need of working on our gear. We’ve put our arms and armor through hell the last few weeks, and I’m of mind to smith some new items up for us.”

“Well, time is a-ticking. You better get to it soon, if you plan on outfitting us better.”

“As you wish, my liege!” mocked Kirin. He rose out of the pool, making sure to splash Lydia on the way out, prompting her to toss an apple at him.

“Oy! At least wait until I have my armor on before you go throwing things at me!”

Lydia laughed, as Kirin through on some more clothes, and began to stoke the fires of his forge. Rummaging through the supply shelves, he began to pull out various ingots and pelts they collected on their travels, and set to work on a new set of armor for himself. He toiled away for several hours before heading back into the house, laden with new gear for the both of them.
A late dinner came next and they set into the small feast Lydia prepared with vigor. Everything was delicious to last bite, and after a quick nightcap they headed off to be. Tomorrow resumed their long journey, and they were getting an early start.

------------------------------

They’d always heard the Reach was dangerous, but since neither Kirin nor Lydia had ever been – they did not expect it to be as treacherous as the found it to be. Saber cats lurked among high outcroppings of stone, and the endless Forsworn hunkered down in every ruin or clearing that they could. Landslides of dirt and rock greeted them in the valleys, and rushing rivers cascaded over cliff faces with a deafening roar that drowned out all else nearby.

It was slow going as they two stalked quietly through the menacing hold, but they couldn’t help but be awed in its utter beauty. Juniper trees bloomed on every steppe and towering cliff faces hung ivy from every ledge. Mountain flowers and lavender lined the cobblestone road, with the occasional Nightshade drawing ones eye with its dark leaves, and deeply violet petals waving in the gentle breeze that flowed through the valleys.

Neither Kirin or Lydia spoke much as they walked, taking in the beauty around them. Before long they were stopped for a rest at Old Hroldan, but it was cut short when the familiar roar of a dragon penetrated the stone walls of the old inn. Gearing back up, they charged outside and up the mountain path, unsheathing their honed blades as they went. Unsure of where Esbern and Delphine were, they took on the powerful Blood Dragon by themselves, peppering it with arrows as it flew to and fro above the plateau they danced across.

Eventually it landed, and could not handle the assault from two fronts. It fell within minutes and began the familiar effect of slowly bursting into flames, as its life force expelled from the dragons body and into Kirin’s. He was slowly coming to peace with the ability bestowed upon him, and it was beginning to show. Lydia had reached out to hold him in case Kirin was overwhelmed again, but this time he took it in stride and breathed deeply as everything settled.

------------------------------

“You’re starting to handle that like a master, Kirin.”

“Hmm? Oh, you mean the dragon soul?” responded Kirin. “I’ve been meditating on it whenever I can, and trying to come to terms with it. I still feel their emotions, but I’m trying to embrace it as a union of kinship more than a usurpation of power.”

“I’d say that approach is working quite well,” said Lydia. “Now then, what about this problem.”

She motioned silently to the camp in the valley below them. A Forsworn encampment sprawled out over wooden docks and bridges that spanned the small creek running through Karthspire.
There were at least a dozen of the deadly Reachmen, and a Hagraven also nested in an offshoot from the main camp. Kirin studied it for a few moments before whispering to Lydia.

“There isn’t much we can do to even the odds. Our best bet is to take a few out with our bows befo – “

He quit talking with a groan and pointed down towards the stone bridge that led into the camp from the southwest. Delphine and Esbern were charging in without regard, apparently intent on wiping out the Forsworn on their own.

“What fools!” hissed Lydia. “Come on, we need to help them!”

“We’ll drop in over there, and get rid of the hag first. Let’s go!”

A Lofty Goal

Sky Haven Temple is nestled on a low mountain-top in the central Reach, ideally situated out of harm’s way, and shrouded by the low level clouds that settle throughout the valleys and dales. Its unique Akaviri architecture separated it nicely from the surround Nordic barrows, yet there was still echoes of Skyrim through ought the complex. Alduin’s Wall sat in the Great Hall, as the focal point of the entire temple.

It was a wonderfully carved bas relief, depicting the prophecy of Alduin, and the Blades that played their part – up until Kirin’s began. Even he must admit that it was a little nerve-wracking to see himself portrayed an ancient prophecy about the defeat of the World Eater. He never envisioned that he would grow up to become a challenger to a God.
Esbern, however, was in his element as he strode through the halls, taking in all the history of the once great Blades stronghold. Even Delphine was happy with the locale, and began dreaming up plans of rebuilding the Blades.

Kirin and Lydia, though, were enjoying a rest and meal out in the courtyard that overlooked the Karth River far below.

“So, what do you think of all this, my Thane?”

“I think that I rather do not like having my destiny pre-ordained. If it were not for Kyne guiding me on this journey, I would probably be lost and overwhelmed,” said Kirin. “Her loving support and you friendship mean a lot to me in these trying times.”

Lydia blushed behind the mug of wine raised to her mouth.

“Your words are kind, Kirin, but as your Housecarl I have only done my duty as best I can.

“Nonsense. You stopped being my Housecarl long ago, and it’s no more than an empty title at this point.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but Kirin cut her off.

“You know it to be true, Lydia.”

Setting down her tankard, she didn’t say anything for a few minutes. Kirin searched her features for any signs of emotion, but Lydia’s face remained resolute. I should remember to avoid playing any betting games with her, thought Kirin.

After a score of minutes, Lydia finally broker her silence on the matter.

“It means a great deal to me that you think so highly of me, Kirin, and that you consider me a friend above all else. But, I cannot be both friend and Housecarl to you – my loyalty and the oath I swore to protect you is too deeply rooted in honor. As a Nord, it would be a great disservice to you for me tobe anything but a loyal subject to you.”

Kirin thought on her words for a moment. They weren’t unexpected, but he also didn’t expect them to be so blunt and honest. Following his instincts on the matter, he decided it was time to let friendship steer the course, and to place his faith in the bond they developed since that fateful day in Whiterun.

“Then by my right as Thane, I release you from my service. Your loyalty remains impeccable, and all will know that the honor of Lydia Steel-Singer is of the highest in the land, second to none,” stated Kirin, boldy. “Now then – will you continue to travel with me along this perilous road, as my sister in blood? Or will you return to Whiterun in service of Jarl Balgruuf the Greater?”

Without hesitation, Lydia drew the finely honed steel dagger from her hip and slid it across her bare palm. She then set her elbow on the table, hand raised as Kirin quickly skimmed across the skin of his own hand with the sharp dwarven knife he kept stowed in is boot. They clasped hands firmly on the tabletop and intoned the ancient oath of Kinship as their mingled blood gently dripped upon the wooden table.

-------------------------------------------

Having made the both legs of the trip before, Lydia and Kirin found little opposition to them as they returned to Ivarstead from their newly found temple of the Sky. The cozy little town that hid in the shadow of the great mountain was still and quiet as they crossed the southern bridge into the village. Lydia turned towards the inn as they passed by, but Kirin continued right past it.

“You do not wish to climb the Seven Thousand Steps at night, do you Kirin?”

“Nah then,” said Kirin. “You may head inside without me. I have a matter to attend to for the Lady Mara.”

“Very well – I will see you shortly.”

Lydia entered Vilemyr with a quick snap of the door, as Kirin headed towards the farm at the other end of town. He knew Fastred usually tended to the animals after dinner, and was hoping to catch her away from the prying eyes of her folk. Mara’s guidance steered him true, and he found the young lass toiling away in the twilight.

Kirin spoke to her at some length, reassuring her that the Goddess of Love would not leave her prayers unanswered. She professed her love of Bassianus, but he sensed doubt in her conviction. Rather than speaking directly to him, Kirin instead took his leave of Fastred, and sought out her parents.

It was then that he learned of Klimmek, and the mystery surrounding their falling out. Kirin knew him to be a good man, and had even helped him with a food delivery to High Hrothgar. The fishermen was found to be standing near the mill, taking in the night air when Kirin approached him and struck up a conversation. He seemed to be a bit more down to earth than Bassianus, and genuinely seemed to love Fastred.

"Oh, Fastred. I'm not sure what happened. One moment she's smiling at me, the next I can't even meet her eyes.”

Sometimes it surprised Kirin how daft other men could be about speaking to women. Maybe his time as a mercenary gave him a different perspective on the opposite sex, but he never found it difficult to relay his intentions. Klimmek seemed genuinely astounded that simply telling Fastred how he feels could be a good idea.

But he heeded the advice well, and ran off to find the young woman. A feeling of warmth and content rose up inside of Kirin, assuring him that he made the right decision. The touch of Mara was a wonderful feeling, and knowing that his work her was completed, he nearly skipped off to the inn as the light of Mara filled his soul.

-------------------------------------------

After a long climb the next day, Kirin and Lydia rested in the drafty halls of High Hrothgar, where they enjoyed a cup of hot tea whilst the Greybeards mediated outside in the courtyard. The stone monastery was eerily quiet without the Thu’um masters shuffling about on their daily routines – all that could be heard was the crackling of flames illuminating the dark halls, and the wind howling about the mountain outside.

The hours passed and the day drew on as they two friends waited patiently for Arngeir to join them inside. It was nigh on supper time when the weathered old Nord emerged from the cold, and spied them sitting around a roughly hewn stone table, chatting amicably.

“Ah, my apologies for not noticing your arrival, Dragonborn. Is there something the Greybeards may help you with?”

Much to the Master’s dismay, Kirin explained their search for the lost Shout they learned of with the Blades. Arngeir lost his temper, and accused the Dragonborn of being nothing more than a tool in the machinations of the shadowy organization. It was only after Kirin asserted his own will, and Master Einarth broke his silence, chiding Arngeir in the tounge of the Dovah.

“Forgive me, Dragonborn – I have been intemperate with you.”

He continued on, explaining that he could not teach Kirin the Shout that he sought. Dragonrend it was called, but the words were unknown to the Greybeards, who felt it had no place in their ancient halls. Instead, he decided it was time for Kirin to meet the leader of the Way of the Voice – Paarthurnax. Leading them out into the courtyard, the Elder taught him one final Shout, assuring Kirin that this would be their final gift to the Dragonborn.

“Clear Skies will blow away the mist, but only for a time. You may find Paarthurnax at the peak of the Throat of the World. Remain true to the Way of the Voice, stay focused on your goal, and your path to the top will clear. Good luck, Dovahkiin.”

The Peak of the Monahven

The blood siblings stood alone on the summit of the great mountain, bracing themselves against the strong gales that seemed to blow in from all sides. All they found upon the peak was a snow covered plateau with a single dragon shrine tucked away in one corner. The true mountain peak stretched above them yet, but they did not doubt that this is where they were meant to stop. Nothing but the intense wind broke the silence, as they waited for a sign that they were not alone. Finally, a mighty roar echoed across Snow Throat.

High above, an immense and weathered Dragon soared down towards them and landed right in front of Kirin and Lydia, greeting them in the Dovah tongue.

"Drem Yol Lok. Greetings, wunduniik. I am Paarthurnax. Who are you? What brings you to my strunmah…my mountain?"

Kirin bowed his head in respect to the ancient one.

“I am known as Kirin, and some have named me Dragonborn. I seek knowledge from the master of the Greybeards, but I did not expect you to be a dragon.”

"I am as my father Akatosh made me. As are you… Dovahkiin,” said Paarthurnax. "Tell me. Why do you come here, volaan? Why do you intrude on my meditation?"

Lydia felt a little out of her element, so she retreated a few steps and settled down on a pelt from her pack while the Kirin conversed with the ancient dragon. Feeling that she would never be able to sustain a fire for warmth, she resided to bundling another cloak around her to ward off the piercing cold. She watched nervously, unsure of where this dragon’s loyalties lay.

But Kirin sensed a felt a kinship with the beast, and had no fear or ill will towards the respected Dovah, and continued to speak confidently with him.

“I need to learn the Dragonrend Shout. Would you teach it to me?"

"Drem. Patience. There are formalities which must be observed, at the first meeting of two of the dov,” replied Paar. He then turned toward the stone shrine, before continuing “"By long tradition, the elder speaks first. Hear my Thu'um! Feel it in your bones. Match it, if you are Dovahkiin!"

YOL…TOOR…SHUL! The mighty dragon roared, and an incredible burst of flame issued forth from his maw, blasting the spoken words into the shrine’s wall. Once the flames cooled down, Kirin approached it and took in the freshly carved words, gaining a small understanding of Fire. Turning back to Paarthurnax, the dragon spoke once more.

"A gift, Dovahkiin. Yol. Understand Fire as the dov do."

The knowledge and meaning of the Shout flowed from the great dragon, and absorbed itself into the blood and soul of Kirin, just as the Greybeards below had gifted him their knowledge. It was always a much more pleasant experience than that of a slain dragon, and the power that filled him could be handled much easier.

"Now, show me what you can do. Greet me not as mortal, but as dovah!"

Kirin stepped backward and hesitated nervously for the first time since Paarthurnax landed before him. Pushing back Arngier with Fus was one thing, but shouting a burst of fire at a dragon was another thing entirely. The apprehension must have shone on his face, for Paarthurnax urged him on once more.

"Do not be afraid. Faasnu. Let me feel the power of your Thu'um."

And so, Kirin did. He called upon his newfound knowledge of Fire, and projected a single word towards the Dovah.

YOL!

The gout of fire sprung forward from his very being, washing the great dragon in tickling flames that cascaded over his entire body. Staggering slightly, Paarthurnax seemed to have been caught off guard by the intensity of the Dragonborn’s Thu’um.

"Aaah… yes! Sossedov los mul. The Dragonblood runs strong in you. It is long since I had the pleasure of speech with one of my own kind. Now then - you have made your way here, to me. No easy task for a joor… mortal. Even for one of Dovah Sos. Dragonblood. What would you ask of me?"

---------------------------------------------

The two continued their longwinded conversation as Lydia sat nearby and watched. She was immensely happy with her decision to hang back a good bit…especially once the Kirin and Paarthurnax began to shout fire at each other and the shrine. But they had since began to converse in more normal tones, leading to Lydia wondering what they could be talking about. She thought about inching closer to them, but worried about more Thu’ums being flung around.

I suppose I’ll just wait for them to finish, thought Lydia. It’s damn cold, though…I hope the wrap it up sooner, rather than later.

She bowed her head against the wind, and decided she would pay her respects to the Lady Kyne. It had been a while since she prayed to the Sky Goddess, and much had happened since that serene day in the garden of the Eldergleam. To her enormous surprise, the voice of Kyne answered her prayers.

‘Hello again, my child,’ rang the beautifully clear voice of the Divine. ‘I wondered when you would call upon me once more.’

‘Forgive me, Lady Kyne – I offer no valid reason for my lack of prayer in recent times. I have been too consumed with my own inner turmoil for some time, and it has only recently been settled.’

The Goddess replied softly, ‘that much I know, young Lydia. I am, however, very pleased at the way things turned out for you and Kirin. He needs your friendship far more than he needs your service. Your journey has already been long, but it is truly just beginning. Many hardships lie ahead, and you will need each other to overcome them.’

‘Your words are kind, my Lady,’ said Lydia. ‘And I will do all that I can to help my brother-in-blood on this journey, for no one has ever been so kind or caring towards me. He is a true Nord and a true friend. I can think of no one else who should be in his place.’

‘Yes, he is a rather gifted individual, and your friendship to him means just as much as his does to you. But we must always keep the faith in him – for he is our only hope. No one else - could - be in his place. That is why I gifted him the voice, and Akatosh bestowed upon him the dragonblood. You must do all that you can to help him. Especially in his greatest times of need. Ah – for now, though, I must take my leave…Kirin and Paarthurnax appear to have reached an agreement. Good luck, my child.‘

Lydia bowed her head in respect. ‘Thank you…mother.’

Ever North

Winterhold was a long way off, but carriage travel sounded awfully nice for the trip. And so, Kirin and Lydia found themselves walking east to Riften, instead of climbing back down the northern face of Snow Throat. The sun shone warmly down on them as they walked beneath the gold leaved birch trees spanning the forests of Skyrim’s southeastern hold. Small critters darted in and out of the dense undergrowth, and the occasional bear could be heard growling beyond the brambles lining the stone road that lead them due east along the Treva River.

Come evening time, they found themselves seated around a table at the Bee and Barb, enjoying a warm meal and a bottle of Black-Briar Reserve. A bard played idly on his lute for a few moments, before singing of Stormcloak triumph and Nord pride. Kirin listened to the song, shaking his head through most of it and setting his fork down in disgust afterwards.

“Something wrong, Kir?”

“Yes, but this is not the place to discuss. Once we are on the road again,” said Kirin. “Can you talk to Keerava about a room? I’ll head over to the temple and check in with Dinya and Mara.”

“Aye. See you in a bit.”

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It was quiet in the temple when Kirin entered through its wooden double doors. Dinya Balu and Maramal were both in deep prayer upon the altar and remained so for several minutes. Sitting patiently in a pew, Kirin said his own prayers to both Mara and Kyne while he waited for the clerics to address him.

Dinya was the first to stand up, and the Dunmer quickly spotted Kirin sitting in the pew, and went to join him.

“Have you returned from Ivarstead with good news?”

“Yes. Through the guidance of the Lady Mara, Fastred and Klimmek have found their love and are no longer confused about themselves,“ said Kirin.

"How wonderful. Like the sea, their love roils and swells, but brings life and nourishment to all."

“Does Mara require anything else of me? I enjoyed a wonderful sense of fulfillment for spreading her light.”

“Of course,” replied Dinya. "As you venture, Mara fills my mind ever more with visions of love in peril. Embers lie nestled in stone, needing only fuel to bloom to a flame that will warm all around them. Go to Markarth. There you'll find Calcelmo, wise, acid, and reclusive. Help him to emerge and state his intentions. This is the prayer heard by the goddess and relayed to her servants.”

Kirin nodded and thanked Dinya before heading back out into the town square. There, found Lydia haggling with Grilka over fine piece of armor and it sounded like it was getting pretty heated. He caught her just in time, recognizing that stubborn Nord look on her face. Thanking Grilka, he steered her away from the vendor's stall to cool her down. She protested for a moment, but then Lydia’s common sense kicked in before her face turned a minor shade of red.

“It was a nice piece…she just was asking an outrageous price for it,” mumbled Lydia.

“The Witchplate cuirass? You should have just asked – I could have smithed one for you the last time we stopped back home at Elysium. I think I have all the materials needed for it already.
Now come, it’s getting late and we have a long journey north ahead of us. We’ll need a good night sleep tonight.”

-----------------------------------------

As it turns out, it wouldn’t be as long as they thought. Kirin and Lydia were pleasantly surprised to learn that the carriage drive near Riften’s stables was willing to lug them all the way up to Winterhold. A day later (and a couple sore backs) the cart bumbled down the road into the once great city of Winterhold. The town was a shell of its former self, with over half of the city now lying among the stone rubble in the Sea of Ghosts far below. Miraculously, the College of Winterhold stood proudly throughout the catastrophic storm that endlessly battered the northern coast, leaving it perched high above the stormy waters. A worn bridge spanned the precipitous drop, and one could not help but marvel at it. No one could quite explain how the college still stood, let alone the gravity defying bridge that connected it to the mainland.

Just atop the stairs that lead down to the main (and only) street in Winterhold stood a tall female Altmer. She stopped Kirin and Lydia just as they crested the staircase.

“Cross the bridge at your own peril! The way is dangerous and the gate will not open. You shall not gain entry!”

Kirin didn’t expect a warm welcome, but he at least thought it might be warmer than that. Most Nords feared the college and its mages, leading them to openly disdain it. This in turn seems to have led to those studying here to be wary and extra cautious of those seeking admittance. After conversing with the elf, Farlada, for a few moments they agreed upon terms to which Kirin and Lydia could enter the college. Stepping back a few paces and urging Faralda aside, Kirin uttered a single word of Unrelenting Force as a demonstration for what he could offer the College of Winterhold.

Excited at the power he possessed, Faralda immediately granted them entry, leading them across the long stone bridge to the courtyard. Pushing through the arched doorway, Kirin and Lydia headed upstairs to the Arcaneum – a vast library full of knowledge studied for countless years by mage after mage. A grumpy old Orc kept watch over the collection, and seemed to know a great deal about the contents within. But when Kirin asked him about Elder Scrolls, the old librarian couldn’t help but give off an air of distrust.

"And what do you plan to do with it? Do you even know what you're asking about, or are you just someone's errand boy?"

Kirin couldn’t help but sigh loudly. Nothing in this place was easy, but he continued talking to Urag about it. After some persuading (and throwing the Dragonborn weight around once more) he gathered up a couple of books on the Elder Scrolls for Kirin to look over. One of them was nigh unreadable and raised more questions than it answered. A quick check with Urag confirmed that he wasn’t daft for not understanding it.

"Aye, that's the work of Septimus Signus. He's the world's master of the nature of Elder Scrolls, but... well. He's been gone for a long while. Too long."

“Any idea where he went?” asked Kirin.

Somewhere up north, in the ice fields. Said he found some old Dwemer artifact, but... well, that was years ago. Haven't heard from him since."

Darkness Envelops

Crossing the northern ice floes was treacherous, but Kirin and Lydia found some measure of respite inside Septimus Signus’ Outpost. Deep inside a glacier, the elderly scholar studied an ancient dwemer construct of enormous size. The artifact was, according to Septimus, a lockbox of some kind that hid away an immense power. Luckily, he too was in need of the Elder Scroll sought by the two Nords. After minutes of inane prattling, Septimus finally revealed that he knew the location of it – Blackreach. A lost Dwemer city far below the ground, spanning many miles beneath Skyrim’s northern mountains.

Before they parted ways, the scholar produced two objects for them to take – a small sphere, and a blank cube.

“Two things I have for you. Two shapes. One edged, one round. The round one, for tuning. Dwemer music is soft and subtle, and needed to open their cleverest gates. The edged lexicon, for inscribing. To us, a hunk of metal. To the Dwemer, a full library of knowings. But... empty. Find Mzark and its sky-dome. The machinations there will read the Scroll and lay the lore upon the cube. Trust Septimus. He knows you can know.”

He then told Kirin where to being his search for Blackreach and the Tower of Mzark – Alftand. Lydia took the lead this time, eager to get out of the cave and away from the addled scholar. The evening sun cast a warm glow down on the blue ice beneath their feat.

“Let’s hop back over to the shore below the college,” said Kirin. “If we make good time, we’ll hike west along the sea until dark. I’d feel better about making camp with solid earth under our feet.”

“Sounds good to me, my Thane.”

Lydia ducked just in time to avoid the snowball Kirin flung at her.

-------------------------------------------------------

A few hours later, dinner sizzled in a frying pan atop the fire that kept them from freezing to death. A horker loaf Kirin purchased from Birna earlier in the day emitted a wonderful aroma that had their stomachs growling. Fuel was plenty due to the endless supply of driftwood that lay scattered along the Sea of Ghosts and the flames were roaring. After they ate, Kirin and Lydia elected to sleep in shifts, keeping the fire lit at all times for warmth…and protection from the local wildlife.

The northern shore was teeming with Ice Wolves, and they roamed in huge packs hunting anything they could find. Horkers also lumbered around the stony beaches, but they are not to be trifled with either. The wolves generally avoided them, leaving smaller critters and unlucky fools that wandered into the wild unprepared for the dangers within.

But the fire kept them at bay, and allowed Kirin and Lydia some relaxation time.

“By the way, Kir…you never did elaborate on your dislike of that Bard’s song in the Bee and Barb. What had you so upset about his piece?”

“This civil war is an utter joke, that’s what. Ulfric and his goons have half the province up in arms over such a trivial matter. The Stormcloaks are blind and too pigheaded to see who the real enemy is – the Thalmor. Not the Empire. We should be manning the borders as proud members of the Imperial Legion, not squabbling over the holds of Skyrim.”

“I see,” said Lydia. “You are right for not wanting to voice that opinion in Riften – they are staunch supporters of Ulfric and you likely would have been hanged for treason. I do see your point, though…even if I might not completely agree with it.”

“Well, then that is your choice. But if you want to see what Ulfric is really about, you need to look no further than the Gray Quarter in Windhelm.”

And with that, Kirin retreated into his tent to sleep for a few hours while Lydia took first watch.

-------------------------------------------------------

Morning had come much to fast or both Kirin and Lydia, but they nonetheless packed up and began the uphill trek to Alftand. Kirin was suspicious as to how Septimus knew where to find a lost Dwarven city, but they really needed the Elder Scroll. The trip up was miserable – seemingly endless Frost Trolls wandered about the barre, snow-covered land between them and their destination. By the time they found the entrance, and the ruined camp outside of it, they were exhausted. It was too dangerous to stop outside though, so they decided to head into the glacial crevasse and look for a spot to hunker down.

The first warm room they found did the trick, and they stopped there to set up a small camp for the night. The stone floor was uncomfortable, but it was damn warm from all the steam that poured out from the maze of pipes that flowed throughout the ancient city. Neither Kirin nor Lydia wanted to sleep in shifts, so instead the Dragonborn tested out a Shout he just recently learned.

LAAS

His vision blurred as a cascade of energy emanated from him and spread through the surrounding area. Far off, he could see the glow of unknown foes as they meandered to and fro aimlessly as the patrolled the long forgotten halls of the Dwarves.

“We should be fine to sleep through the night,” whispered Kirin. “There is nothing within any meaningful distance of us.”

-------------------------------------------------------

After resting a few hours each, they were back to quietly advancing through the endless tunnels and huge chambers that were packed with automatons, and later, the Falmer. These sickly creatures caused more problems for Kirin and Lydia than anything they had faced before. Everyone arrow loosed and every sword swung was laced with a virulent poison that the Falmer concocted from their Charus pets. Throngs of the hobbled creatures spread through deepest depths of Alftand, and there seemed no end to their massive numbers.

Eventually, Kirin and Lydia came to a huge, open air cathedral far beneath the surface. A large gate stood in their way, and once they dispatched the couple Falmer patrolling it, Kirin climbed to the balcony above. Two levers on either side of the balcony released the gate, and the two Nord warriors soon found themselves facing a new problem.

The massive Steam Centurion awoke from its arch the moment their light footfalls landed on the top step of the central dais. It roared into life as pistons pumped steam out of every orifice and marched towards Kirin and Lydia with surprising speed, ready to swing its massive hammer down upon them. To their fortune, it was not an agile construct. Darting in and out of its long reach, they were able to whittle away at the metal beast in tight and drop it before the machine caused any real damage.

Resting on the stone steps for a moment, they passed each other water, food, and healing potions before continuing on. Once through another gate, they found the entrance to Blackreach that brought them here. Kirin pulled out the Attunement Sphere given to him by Septimus and inserted it into the control panel. Beneath their feet, the ground shook briefly, before the stones surrounding the column sunk into the floor, revealing a staircase down into Blackreach.

Doomdriven

Blackreach was unlike anything Kirin had ever seen, and will likely ever see. The immense dark cavern stretched as far as the eye could see, and was illuminated only by two sources - towering mushrooms with milky white, flowing tendrils and Dwemer lamps. Outcroppings of a mysterious blue rock reflected the spore’s light, sticking out across the dark landscapes like beacons in the night. Far off in the distance, a massive orb hung from the shrouded rock ceiling high above it.

A small structure of dwarven make was directly across from where they emerged into this mysterious realm and in front of it waited a Dwarven Sphere, likely still guarding the domicile from its original owner. Kirin motioned to Lydia and pointed it out. Together, they readied arrows, and let them fly in the same instance, dismantling the automaton before it could unpack itself. The clang of the arrows on armor alerted a few nearby Falmer, though, and soon they were under siege from two sides. Finishing off the last of the gloomlurkers and a Charus Hunter, they ducked inside the small building.

It was a small, one room stone shack with a bed, fireplace, and dining table. The remains of the last occupant lay in a pile on the floor, dead for who knows how many years. Various alchemical books and ingredients lay around the home, which looked like it had been turned into a small lab for alchemy research. On the long shelf a plant was growing in a small pot, and it emitted the well-known sound of Nirnroot – but instead of being the familiar white-green hue, it was a deep, crimson red color. This intrigued Kirin, but not enough to take it. He had no skill in or use for alchemy, and didn’t trouble himself with learning it. Instead, he rummaged through knapsack lying on the floor.

“Grab anything we can use and then we’ll get back out there.”

“You sure, Kir?” asked Lydia. “I really do not like pillaging from the dead.”

“I’m not asking you to take his clothes…just grab anything meaningful to us, and call it a day. Food, water, arrows, potions. You know the drill.”

--------------------------------------------

A few hours later found them stumbling through the dark of Blackreach, but their goal was in sight. The approximation of the Tower of Mzark given to them by Septimus took some time to align to surface navigation, but Kirin managed it once he was able to pinpoint where they were under Skyrim. Since then, they were making excellent time, and only slowed down to deal with whatever monsters lurked in the shadows. The worst of which wasn’t even abnormal…

Just as they rounded the bend towards the stairs leading to Mzark, a giant lumbered up the road. Typically docile unless threatened, Kirin was shocked to see it charge at them, club raised. Being stuck in the dark must have addled its mind and made it feral. They wasted no time in defending themselves, and Kirin even used the full might of Unrelenting Force to their advantage, making quick work of the goliath.

“I’m sick of this cold, dank hole in the ground, Kir. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

“I agree wholeheartedly. C’mon – the Tower is just over that bridge. Hopefully we are on our way back up.”

Indeed, they found an elevator across the bridge and through the large metal doors. After a quick ride up, they found themselves in a small anteroom lined with bookshelves and smattering of various Dwemer odds and ends. A passage on the other side brought them into a large Oculory controlled by mysterious buttons on the ledge overlooking the top of the reflecting platform.
Kirin studied the devices for a few moments before grabbing the lexicon from Lydia’s pack, and inserting it into the receptacle to the right of the buttons. It locked in place with a snap, as the gears within the device turned, and activated.

“I think I got the gist of this,” said Kirin.

He pressed the only illuminated button and…nothing happened.

Lydia snorted. “Nice work, boss. Maybe you should try asking it nicely.”
“Hush.”

The burly Nord depressed the button again, but still nothing happened. Getting frustrated, he jabbed at it repeatedly until the second button became illuminated.
“Aha! Told you I’d get there!”

Behind him, Lydia rolled her eyes.

“Please, you had no idea what you were doing – just admit it!”

“Never.”

After a few more minutes of random button pushing, the lexicon began to glow as the focusing lenses of the Oculory began to rotate and redirect the beams of light shining from above. Before long, an echoing clang reverberated throughout the chamber as container lowered from the ceiling an opened up atop the platform below. Kirin and Lydia quickly ran down the ramp to the reflecting platform and stood in awe at the containers contents.

Before them lay one of the fable Elder Scrolls. An instrument of immense power was theirs for the claiming and the gravity of the situation was not lost on them.

“I’m almost afraid to touch, Lyds. Think of the power that would be open to us…if Nirn wasn’t in such dire need, I’d be tempted to leave it and bring the tower down upon this place.”

“But we do need it, Kirin. Grab it and let’s get out of here – Paarthurnax is waiting for us.”

Kirin nodded, pulled the scroll from its resting place and slung it over his shoulder, strapping it to his back.

“May the Divines have mercy on us.”

--------------------------------------------

It was dark outside when they exited from the Tower of Mzark, and a snow storm was blowing through the mountains. Outside of the elevator gate was another ruined campsite with no occupants. Lydia set to gathering fuel and building a fire while Kirin studied his map and tried to pinpoint their location. Eventually, he recognized an outline in the distance knew at once where they were. Rolling up the map, he joined Lydia at the fire while she cooked up the last of their venison steaks.

“I wonder how long we were underground for,” said Lydia. “I lost track of time, and was surprised to come out so late in the night. Judging by Masser and Secunda, it must be nearly midnight.”

“That must have been moonlight reflecting down through the Oculory. Could have fooled me.”

“Who takes first watch tonight?” asked Lydia.

“Neither of us – we both need the sleep. Just be sure to say a prayer to Kyne, and hopefully she will protect us while we rest.”

For near eight hours, the two adventurers slept undisturbed in the tent near the entrance to Mzark. In one sleeping bag lay Lydia, ever vigil with her hand around the dagger under the pillow. In the other, Kirin slumbered with the Elder Scroll tucked firmly in his arms – both of them were dead to the world, getting a well-deserved sleep.

And outside the tent, a large hawk perched on a nearby tree stump, patiently waiting for the bright morning sun to rouse the sleeping friends.

Drawn from the Depths

Needless to say, Divines do not like being made to wait – even the benevolent ones that have chosen their champions and their children. So with that, when late morning began to approach, the large brown hawk that watched over the makeshift campsite let out a hearty morning caw, to waken the sleeping beauties.

Kirin jumped from his sleeping bag in alarm at the piercing call that sounded like it was right on top of them. Pushing Lydia into wakefulness, he stumbled out into the snow and began looking around for the source of the call. He spotted the hawk nearby, and bent his knee in honor.

“Hello Mother. What brings you here to us on this fine winter morning?”

The avian divine cocked her head sideways to study him, before shifting into her fair human form. Kyne smiled down at him.

“I answered your prayers, of course. It is not often that you call upon me for aid, so I felt it wise to come see you. I am glad to find you well, and that I caught you before you embark upon the next chapter of your journey.”

“Do you have need of us, Lady Kyne? Aside from what we are already doing, that is.”

Lydia emerged from the tent and bowed in respect to her matron.

“Ah, Lydia, there you are dear. I trust you slept well last night?”

“Much better than I thought I would, that’s for sure. A dragon could have roared overhead and I might not have even stirred,” she laughed.

Kyne smiled knowingly. “Good. You will need the rest for the next leg of your journey. Which brings me to the reason for my presence out here.”

The Goddess paused, and turned her attention back to Kirin.

“Before you return to Paarthurnax, I ask that you wear the amulet given to you by Dinya, and let Mara guide you once more. She offers a blessing and it is one that you shall need, if you are to survive your fate.”

“Then that is what we will do, Mother,” said Kirin. “I’ll rustle up that amulet as soon as I can.”

“Very well. I shall leave you to it, then.”

Kyne turned back towards the open sky she descended from and prepared to shift back into her hawk form. But she looked back one more time at the two Nords with a smile, and offered a final word of advice.

“And Kirin, dear? When Mara grants her blessing…try not to act so surprised this time.”

------------------------------------------------

About an hour later, they had packed up their supplies and began the descent down to the plains of Whiterun, when Lydia finally asked the question that was niggling at her.

“’Try not to act so surprised this time’…what do you think she meant by that, Kir?”

“I have an idea and something tells me it won’t be the last time it happens. I would say that scholars have gotten a number of things wrong about the history of Tamriel, and that they continue to do so.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Kirin smiled. “You’ll see soon enough.”

They continued on across the thinly treed tundra, kicking their way through tall grasses and flowered fields. Far off in the distance, deer pranced across the open meadows while sabre cats stalked them in the grasses. Wolf packs roamed in tight groups, avoiding the Giants and their mammoth herds. Kirin knelt to fill up his waterskin at a small stream wending its way through the earth, and nearly got knocked over by a mudcrab as it burst from the dirt. A quick arrow from Lydia buried itself in the crab’s underside just as it leapt towards Kirin.

“Nice shot,” remarked Kirin, as he got back to his feet. “How’d you react so quickly?”

“Luck. I spotted a buck nearby and was waiting for it to come out of the grasses when I heard the earth breaking. You should pay more attention to where you rest.”

He made his way towards her and clasped her shoulder. Lydia couldn’t help but notice a different look in his eyes than she had ever seen before and a soft smile on his lips.

“Well if I were so careful, then what need would I have of you to protect me?”

Hooking his waterskin back on, Kirin resumed their march west, towards Gjukar’s Monument. He wasn’t sure what drew him there, but trusted Mara and her guidance. The amulet around his neck seemed to ease his burdens, and stifle doubt. Everything he looked at seemed to having a glowing aura…and Lydia more so than anything else. Several times, he had to avert his gaze to avoid being caught staring at his loyal friend and companion.

After the third time this happened, Kirin shook his head and tried to focus on their quest, and figure out their next move.


------------------------------------------------

It was nightfall when they finally approached the tall stone monolith that loomed over the western plains. Masser and Secunda glowed down upon them, illuminating the whole area in pale light, while Kirin and Lydia searched around the statue for a sign of their goal.

A few moments had come and gone before a ghostly figure appeared at the base of the towering monument. Kirin approached the spectral being, and to his surprise, she answered his call to her.

"I'm searching for my Fenrig. He was marching with Gjukar's men, who they say were wiped out here. I've turned over every body, though, and I can't find him. Please help me look. He has a bright red beard and hair."

Lydia joined them just after she finished speaking.

“She’s obviously convinced that she is still alive, Kir. Let’s just look around for this Fenrig, and see what happens. Do you feel any guidance though the amulet?”

“Some – but not the kind I’m looking for. Give me a moment to sort it out.”

He hung his head in concentration and tried to sort out the turmoil of emotions that had risen to the top once he donned the amulet. Listening, or rather – feeling – intently for a nudge from Mara on where to look next, his feet began to move him back east and slightly north.

“C’mon Lyds…I think he is back this way.”

They searched the area around the lonely mountain that sat alone in the middle of the open tundra. Long ago some unknown force had pushed up this single peak, far from the nearest ranges and isolated by the grassy plains surrounding it. At the northern base, they found another ghost, milling about aimlessly.

"Ruki? Where is she? If she's come this far from home, it must be important. Lead on. I just need to report back to camp by sunrise."

Vanishing with a wisp of spectral smoke, Fenrig left Kirin and Lydia alone once again. The tightened up their packs, and began a quick jog back to Gjukar’s Monument, hoping to catch the forlorn lovers before they vanished forever. The tundra raced by as they picked up speed, soon opening into an all-out run across the meadowlands. Two blue lights flickered in the distance, as
Ruki and Fenrig were finally reunited. Kirin kicked in an extra burst of speed and caught up to them just in time.

"Fenrig! You're alive!"

"Of course I am. What brings you here?"

"I had heard that Gjukar's men were wiped out. I came to find you."

"But that battle isn't expected until tomorrow... Ruki, what's going on?"

The two ghosts, reunited at last had begun to elevate above the ground as they spoke, rising higher and higher into the clear night sky. Their conversation began to trail off, but Kirin managed to pick out their last words to each other before leaving the mortal realm.

"I'm so confused. What's happening?"

"It doesn't matter. I'm here. We're together now. And we will be forever."

And they vanished. Together again after a hundred years of fear and longing, Fenrig and Ruki departed for the halls of Sovngarde, to enjoy eternity together, under the watchful eye of Shor. Lydia had just caught back up to him, and hunched over on a nearby rock.

“Did you make it in time?” she asked, breathlessly.

“I did. They’ve been reunited, and have moved on from our world.”

“And a fine job you did of it, too,” said a voice, drifting out of the darkness.

Kirin and Lydia both leapt to the ready and drew their weapons in surprise. The voice had caught them off guard and they hadn’t heard anyone approach.

“Who goes there!” yelled Kirin. “Show yourself!”

From behind the tall standing stone, emerged a figure robed in a simple habit of the purest of white. It strode toward them gracefully, hands folded in front and bearing no hostility. Kirin and Lydia both eased up and sheathed their swords, just as the feminine form approached them.

“Thank you for stowing your weapons,” said the robed woman. “They would not have helped you, but you needn’t them anyway.”

“You gave us quite a fright, ma’am,” said Kirin. May I ask what you are doing out here, in the middle of the night?”

“Looking for you of course, son of Kyne.”

Lydia started – no one but the two of them knew of Kirin’s connection to the sky goddess.

”You may rest easy, Lydia – mortals may not know of Kirin’s fate, but we Divines are an entirely different matter.”

She lowered her hood and smiled at them. “It’s nice to finally meet my sister's chosen one. Good evening, Kirin. I am known to your kind as Mara."

The Winds of Change

Kirin tried not to act surprised, but his facial expressions failed him miserably. Kyne had warned him, but he still couldn’t help but be baffled as he stood before yet another goddess – this time the Goddess of Love. His mind was racing by at a million miles an hour and unfortunately he couldn’t stop himself from blurting out the silliest of questions.

“Um…so does that make you my aunt?”

To his surprise, the Lady Mara laughed aloud at his remark.

“I suppose - in a way - it does indeed.”

Lydia rose from her kneeling position and smacked Kirin on the shoulder.

“Seriously, Kir? That is the first question you could think of to as a divine?” She then turned to Mara, “We are honored by your presence, Lady. To what do we owe your benevolent presence?”

“Now, now, Lydia. You mustn’t be so formal with me anymore than you are with Kyne. I know that you honor me out of respect, but that is not necessary. I have had your prayers over the last few months and that is all that I require.”

Kirin glanced sideways at Lydia just in time to see her blush. Wondering what that was all about he almost didn’t catch the wink flashed to him by Mara. Something told him that the Goddess of Love that stood before them was more deeply entwined with them than he ever expected.

“Back to business, then,” said Mara. “I am here to offer you my blessing, in exchange for fanning the fires of love that had begun to smolder throughout Skyrim. No place on Nirn should ever be devoid of love and the wonderful energy it binds us all together with. It is as intrinsic to the nature of Mundus as music is, and keeps the strings of reality bound tight. You two have done much for love in my name, and your own. I gift to you my boon – a protection against forces that would harm love – and ask that you yet return to my priestess Dinya. You must still be recognized formally for your efforts.”

A warm glow filled the souls of Kirin and Lydia as it enveloped them in the pure light of divinity. They could feel their life forces bolster as the energy swirled around them in the darkness of night, illuminating the area round them. After a moment, the light dissipated but the energy of life and love did not.

“It is done. Please return to Riften at your earliest convenience, and let Dinya know that your task is complete. In the meantime, know that with my blessing, I shall help you in your times of need if you ask. For now, I will seek out Kyne and let her know of this. Good luck on your journey, children…you will need it.”

Kirin and Lydia bowed in respect to the divine, and thanked her for her blessing and her love. Before she disappeared into the encompassing dark of night, she addressed them again.
“One more thing, children. Do not continue to quell the most important emotion of all. You will need it more than anything else in the coming times.”

----------------------------------------

They set up camp after Mara had departed, but their late dinner around the crackling flames was a quiet affair. Neither of the two were brave enough to discuss the meaning of the Lady’s parting words, and instead they both dwelled on them in silence. Instead, they both drifted off to sleep under the bright starts of the night sky.

Morning came sooner than either Kirin or Lydia wanted it to. The day prior had been a long one, but they had a lot of traveling left to do – Riften was long way off and after that, a long backtrack to Ivarstead and High Hrothgar. Luckily, Whiterun was nearby, though…the carriage service down to Riften would speed things up considerably and take some of the travel burden off.

So to Whiterun is where they headed, but the two Nords did so in silence. Neither one of them had yet to talk about their meeting with Mara last night, and a passerby could have cut the tension with a butter knife. Onwards they quietly walked, as the warm sunny morning gradually turned to a cloud filled and dreary day, threatening rain at any moment. Within a few hours, the drops began to fall gently around them as the open plains filled with a thin mist.

And still Kirin and Lydia walked on in relative silence, only breaking from their somber mood at signs of trouble or hostile attackers. The weather only made matters worse, intensifying as time wore on. By midafternoon, thunder began to crackle in the distance and a strong wind blew to the west, directly impeding their march east. It was only then that Kirin took the hint…

“Lydia, let’s get out of this mess.”

He looked ahead for any kind of shelter, and was pleased to see the now deserted Redoran’s Reatreat just ahead of them.

“Make a break for the cave before this weather gets any worse. We have some things to discuss.”

----------------------------------------

Inside the cave, the air was stale and smelled of dampness and mold. The bandits Kirin killed long ago on the Jarl’s orders had likely been dragged off by scavenging predators, leaving behind an empty earthly domicile. They headed deeper inside to the ending chamber and lit a fire in the stone pit near the back wall. One chair still remained and Kirin offered it to Lydia while he sat on the floor on the opposite side.

The silence endured once more as they warmed up around the blazing flames and nearly half an hour passed before Lydia broke it.

“So, why have we come in here, Kirin?”

“I think you know why. Also because I’m fairly certain that Kyne was behind the abrupt change in the weather that we just experienced. She obviously thinks we should talk about our encounter with Mara and I’m beginning to agree with that sentiment.”

Lydia shifted nervously in her seat and her face flushed once more.

“Lady Mara wouldn’t have given us those last words if they didn’t mean something,” said Kirin. “I don’t think I can hide it from myself or from you anymore, Lyds. Putting that amulet on yesterday brought everything bubbling to the surface and now it’s eating away at me.”

He glanced up at Lydia and was surprised to see the look of delightful shock on her face. It faded quickly and a coy smile soon played around the corners of her mouth. Just as Kirin was about to continue, she got to her feet, walked around the fire and sat down next to him before leaning in and giving him the one present she'd wanted to for a long time. A lingering kiss.

Duel on the Peak

When the two lovers finally exited Redoran’s Retreat, the sun shined brightly down upon them from a cloudless sky. Songbirds chattered all around them and Lydia could have sworn that she spotted two white doves fly overhead. Resuming their journey to Whiterun, they decided to stop home at Elysium along the way for a day or so to relax and get accustomed to their latest development.

The details may be spared, but needless to say – they had a good mini-vacation at the estate. Towards the end, Kirin could be seen tending the forge for several hours while Lydia stocked up on their supplies for the road. Once finished she joined him outside just in time for her to try on a new set of armor.

Gasping at the sight of it, Lydia nearly dropped the two mugs of wine she held.

“Wow - you have outdone yourself, Kir. I thought you were going to smith up a set of that Witchplate armor I found in Riften. But this…”

She picked up the gleaming black armor off of the work bench to check the fit. Her clothes slid to the earth baring her fair skin to the open air as she began to slide the cuirass over her head and on to her torso. After strapping it in, she pulled on the boots and gauntlets, picked up her new shield and sword for a practice swing. The blade was balanced well, and moved through the air in a dark blur as Lydia swung it deftly in her sword dance.

Sheathing the sword when she finished, Lydia looked back at Kirin with a beaming smile.

“Thank you for this, love. But when did you learn how to work with Ebony? I’ve heard that it frustrates even the most skilled smiths to no end.”

“I picked up a few pointers from Eorlund, when we were last in Whiterun. It’s not so bad, once you figure out the optimal forge temperature. Though I did use up most of my wood stock to keep it burning that hot.”

“What about your armor? That engraved cuirass is looking fairly worn and shabby.”

“I have the materials for a full set of glass armor set aside. I’ll work on it later, though. I need a break from hammering for a while – my arms are so sore, they might fall off.”

Lydia strode over to him and grabbed his hand. Leading him over to the outdoor sauna, she lit a few torches around it before turning back to face Kirin.

“Help me get this armor off, and I’ll see if we can do something about that.”

----------------------------------------------

The following day found Kirin and Lydia leaving Elysium for the Whiterun stables just after lunch. Both of them were armored up in their new sets and looked the part of a formidable duo. Even Uthgerd gave them a wide berth as they sauntered up the cobblestone road towards the carriage driver. Sixty gold Septims later, and they were seated uncomfortably in the back of the wooden wagon, bumbling along towards Riften while the driver prattled on aimlessly.

Morning found them finally disembarking from the carriage and pushing their way through the Riften gates. Not wanting to linger around the corrupt city, they immediately made their way to the Temple of Mara. Dinya Balu awaited them at the altar, and greeted them warmly as they approached.

"Hello my friends. Your efforts have helped illuminate the entire province. I trust by now you've achieved a higher comprehension of love. Carry the blessings of Mara with you, so the rest of the province may shine with her glories."

Kirin and Lydia bowed amicably and thanked the priestess. But Dinya was not yet finished.

“Ah, I see the two of you have found a spark of your own! And…if I’m not mistaken – you bear a unique blessing from the Lady Mara herself! We are honored to have you here at the temple and its doors will always be open to you.”

They thanked her again before heading back out into the market square.

“Well, where to now, dear?” asked Lydia.

“The Throat of the World awaits us. It’s time to embrace destiny head on."

----------------------------------------------

They stopped briefly in High Hrothgar to catch up with Arngier, but did not linger long. The mountain path cleared before them under the power of Clear Skies, and within hours the summit approached. Paarthurnax awaited them atop the lower peak, an addressed them right away.

"You have it. The Kel - the Elder Scroll. Tiid kreh... qalos. Time shudders at its touch. There is no question. You are doom-driven. Kogaan Akatosh. The very bones of the earths are at your disposal. Go then. Fulfill your destiny. Take the Scroll to the Time-Wound. Do not delay. Alduin will be coming. He cannot miss the signs."

Kirin gave Lydia a peck on the cheek and bid her to stand back. Walking over to the Time-Wound, he pulled the Elder Scroll from his back and unfurled it within the distortion. A flash of burning white light illuminated his vision before the runed pages began to glow. Quite suddenly, a window in time opened up before him and Kirin found himself looking into the past as three Nord warriors battled with a dragon. They appeared to be waiting for Alduin and had hinged all of their hopes on him rising to their challenge.

Things were looking bleak for the stout male hero, but his female companion leapt boldly into the fray and climbed up on to the dragon’s neck, shouting as she swung her sword with deadly precision.

"Know that Gormlaith sent you down to death!"

As she plunged her sword in one final time, the dragon roared and fell with a final shudder. Jumping down, Gormlaith regrouped with Feldir and Hakon as they waited for Alduin. A few moments later, they got their wish as the great black dragon swooped down onto the stone shrine on the peak.

"Meyye! Tahrodiis aanne! Him hinde pah liiv! Zu'u hin daan!"

"Let those that watch from Sovngarde envy us this day!" yelled Gormlaith.

All at once, the three ancient warriors then unleashed their crippling shout upon the winged menace.

JOOR ZAH FRUL

With a mighty roar Alduin was forced to the ground as the concept of mortality raced through his being for the first time. A mysterious purple aura radiated from his massive body as he cursed the Nords and Paarthurnax for their twisted creation. They all fought in vain against Alduin, as he was still too powerful to be slain. The death of Gormlaith resulted in their last ditch effort – the scroll. Feldir unfurled it and with a powerful incantation, he banished Alduin from reality…for a time.

The portal into the past vanished and when Kirin’s eyes finally cleared, he found Alduin himself floating in the sky above.

"Bahloki nahkip sillesejoor. My belly is full of the souls of your fellow mortals, Dovahkiin. Die now and await your fate in Sovngarde!"

The dragon began to fly off towards Paarthurnax, but without hesitation, Kirin shouted the full might of Dragonrend at him, bring Alduin to the ground. Sword and shield at the ready, Kirin immediately began to hack away at the monstrous beast, as Lydia rushed in from the flank and landed as many blows as she could.

A battle raged on for hours, well into the dark of night. Far below, the people of Skyrim looked up towards the mountaintop in wonder as dragons circled, lighting flashed, and thunder cracked around the peak. The air rippled with the sound of the Thu’um as Kirin and Alduin were locked in their deadly confrontation. Paarthurnax had long since lifted to a higher flight once he realized that the World Eater powerfully outmatched him.

Lydia had been wounded grievously with a whip from his powerful tail and lay bleeding in the snow nearby. The sight of her injured form sent Kirin into a primal rage as he relentlessly continued his barrage of Alduin’s near impenetrable hide until finally, the great dragon recoiled in fear.

"Meyz mul, Dovahkiin. You have become strong. But I am Al-du-in, Firstborn of Akatosh! Mulaagi zok lot! I cannot be slain here, by you or anyone else! You cannot prevail against me. I will outlast you... mortal!"

And with a furious rush of wings, Alduin took flight once more and disappeared into the eastern night sky. Breathless and sapped of all his strength, Kirin dropped his sword in the snow and stumbled over to where Lydia laid in her prone form. He poured the last of his healing potion into her mouth and passed out next to her.

Paarthurnax returned to the summit, landed next to the two Nords and sheltered them from the cold until they would regain consciousness.

Elder Council

Kirin awoke some time later on a stone bed within the halls of High Hrothgar. Paarthrunax had called for the Greybeards’ aid when the storms intensified on the mountain, and flew the unconscious heroes down the mountain to the courtyard, leaving them in Arngier’s care. Nearly a full day had passed before Kirin slept enough to recuperate from the harrowing battle with the World Eater. His eyes snapped open and he suddenly jumped to his feet, looking around for Lydia.

Hearing the clamor in the room next store, Arngier arose from his table and went to check on it.

“Arngeir! Where’s Lydia? She was hurt – I gave her a bit of healing potion, but I’m not sure it was enough. Is she here? Did she make it!”

“Morah, Dovahkiin. Breathe deeply and focus.”

The old man’s word settled into Kirin’s mind and after a few seconds, he regained his composure.

“Better?” asked Arngier. “Good. Now, Lydia lies in the room adjacent. Alduin’s tail is a powerful extension of him, and the landed blow shattered most of her ribs. It is good that you gave her the potion when you did, for the force of the blow nearly killed her. We have cared for her to the best of our abilities, but it may be some time before she awakens.”

The panic in Kirin’s mind lessened, and he breathed easier yet.

“Please take me to her, Master. I will sit with her until she wakes.”

“Of course. This way, Dovahkiin.”

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Three days came and went before Lydia roused from her slumber, and sat up in bed. For the moment she was alone, but on the table beside her lay a plate of food and a large goblet of water. Her eyes lit up as soon as she saw it, and without hesitation she grabbed a fork and went to town on it. The clanging of silverware on her plate and the goblet being set on stone must have garnered some attention, and her ears picked up the sound of hurried footsteps and whispered voices.
Kirin rounded the corner and into view first, smiling in delight at the sight of Lydia awake and eating. Behind him, Arngier followed with Borri. Kirin rushed towards the bed, and sat down next to her on the edge and embraced her warmly.

“Oof, let go Kir – you’re crushing me.”

“Sorry, love. I’ve been worried about you. The battle with Alduin went poorly, and almost did not end well.”

“So it would seem. Did you manage to defeat him?”

“Yes and no. He cannot be killed on Mundus and has flown to Sovngarde, where he is regathering his strength. I’ve been conferring with Arngier and Paarthurnax these past three days, an-“
“Three days! Just how hurt was I? All I remember is the blur of Alduin’s tail rushing at me before I could dodge it…”

Unable to find the words, Kirin simply leaned in and kissed her on the forehead. Instead, Master Arngier answered what he could not.

“We almost lost you, Miss Lydia. Had Kirin not given you the last of his potion, you would likely have succumbed to your wounds before Paarthurnax could get you down here to us.”
Lydia said nothing, but grabbed Kirin and held him close. They’d been through much together, but nothing so dangerous as their assault on Alduin atop the mountain. She squeezed him tighter as tears began to fall gently from her eyes.

“Please tell me that we don’t have to seek him out once more.”

Kirin sighed.

“I wish I could, my love,” whispered Kirin remorsefully. “But if I do not, he will return and seek us out on his own accord.”

She untangled her arms from his torso, and held him away from her, staring directly into his eyes.

“What do you mean ‘I’? You surely don’t intend to face him alone? Kirin it would be suicide!”

“I wish there was another way, Lydia, I do. But the only way to end this for good is by traveling to Sovngarde – and that is something I can only do alone.”

Lydia sniffled and dried her eyes.

“Do you at least have some sort of plan?”

“Master Arngier, Paarthurnax, and I have come up with one, but it will take some doing. Once you are rested up enough, we leave for Whiterun. Convincing Jarl Balgruuf to capture a dragon in Dragonsreach will be a tall order.”

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The very next day found Kirin and Lydia descending the mountain and crossing the bridge into Ivarstead. All was quiet in the sleepy little village, and only the guards were out making their rounds. A few of them acknowledged Kirin as Dragonborn out of respect, but most kept up the pretense of quiet toughness. They crossed the western bridge out of town, and began the long walk to Whiterun via Riverwood. The Voice of the Sky kept the wilderness animals at bay as they walked beneath the golden leaved birch trees that lined the road in thick groves.
It was an uneventful trip with one night spent lying out under the stars in each other’s warm embrace.
“Do you think we’ll ever have time to just be us, Kir?” wondered Lydia.

“When I come back from Sovngarde, I will make sure of it, Lyds. We are going to lock ourselves up in Elysium and not come out for at least a month. If Kyne needs us, she can blow the roof off of the place for all I care.”

A stiff wind blew through the valley after that remark from her chosen champion.

“Just kidding, mum!” yelled Kirin.

The breeze died off quickly leaving a still night for the couple to drift off to sleep in.

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Tirdas dawned under cloudy skies that eventually began to drop a cold, dismal rain down on the heads of Kirin and Lydia. They paid no heed to the chilly storm, and trudged on towards Whiterun and warm interiors. Several hours later found them seated around the long fire pit in Dragonsreach, discussing the issue of trapping a dragon.

As expected, Balgruuf was less than thrilled about the idea, and vehemently refused at first. It took a fair bit of convincing from Kirin before he relented, promising only to help if the temporary peace in the war could be achieved.

Once they came to that agreement, the long journey to High Hrothgar, Windhelm, and Solitude began. Arngier agreed to host the council of peace, but it would yet take some convincing for Ulfric and Tullius to show up.

Kirin and Lydia spent the next week riding from city to city in uncomfortable carriages, trying to get the war leaders to attend. In the end, the only thing that worked was pounding them over the head with the threat of Alduin and the end of life as they all knew it. Fear can be a wonderful motivator – even for the war hungry.

Peace and Promises

Around the large stone council table of High Hrothgar sat those who would treat for the most temporary of truces. All who was requested by Kirin to attend were present, and also a few unexpected guests. Sitting on opposite heads of the table were Arngeir and Kirin, respectively. On one side sat the Imperial delegation, composed of Jarl Balgruuf, General Tullius, Legate Rikke, Jarl Elisif, and Elenwen. Across from them stood the Stormcloaks; Jarl Ulfric and Galmar Stone-Fist. Esbern and Delphine had also shown up, as a delegation of the Blades, who apparently were no longer interested in hiding.

Naturally, it was Ulfric who made the first demand by refusing to sit down until Elenwen was dismissed from the council. He argued that she had no place among them, and Kirin was inclined to agree with him. Once she left, the real talks began – and so did the insults. It took many hours of bickering and arguing back and forth with Arngeir settling people down, but eventually terms were accepted by all sides.

The delegates began to file out, leaving those at the core of the matter to discuss the next step…catching a dragon.

“Dragonsreach is ready for you. The great chains are oiled and my men stand at the ready, Dragonborn,” said Balgruuf.

Arngeir then raised the next problem of the matter – how to catch a dragon there. It was as this pint that Esbern piped up again, explaining that with a little research, he had identified one of the dragons risen by Alduin.

“If you call his name, he will not be compelled to come, but Dragons are prideful by nature, and they loathe to refuse a challenge. Your voice in particular, Dragonborn, is likely to interest him. I find it unlikely that he will be able to resist.”

“Thank you, Esbern,” said Kirin. “Jarl Balgruuf, I will see you in Whiterun when I am ready.”

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They took a carriage to Whiterun, rather than make the long trek by foot once again. But instead of turning up into the city, Kirin and Lydia first headed back to Elysium Estate. Both of them were laden down with gear from their recent journeys, Kirin needed to attend to his gear before leaving for Dragonsreach. He set about to organizing his new belongings and supplies, while Lydia washed up and began preparing a meal for them.

While she cooked, Kirin went out back to feed the forge – he needed it to be hotter than ever before in order to put his new idea on armor to the test. After loading in most of the deadwood they had left, Kirin tugged a few times on the bellows and headed back inside the estate. Lydia had just set out a plate of venison steaks and poured a bottle of Black-Briar Reserve into a mug for him, while she poured a glass of Colovian Brandy for herself.

Dinner was somber affair while the two Nords dwelled on what was to come. Kirin was unsure of what to expect on the way to Sovngarde, and was nervous at the prospect of not having Lydia at his side. And in turn, Lydia worried about Kirin surviving such a tall order on his own. The last time they faced Alduin, all was nearly lost – and that was with herself and Paarthurnax aiding him in battle.

Lost in thought after finishing up their meal, both of them jumped in alarm when the main door to the estate opened up without so much as a knock. Much to their surprise, in walked Kyne.

“Do not rise to greet me, children,” tutted Kyne. “I will join you at the table.”

The goddess sat down at the head of the table and waved her hand. Next to her appeared a goblet of wine that she picked up and sipped gently. She looked at Kirin, and then over to Lydia.

“Well, you two certainly look somber. Come now, not all hope is lost for this final leg of your journey, Kirin.”

“Forgive me, Mother. It just seems to be so tall an order for one man to overcome. Especially when I will not have your guidance or protection when I leave this realm. Nor will I have Lydia at my side, to help me overcome the odds.”

Kyne simply smiled and look knowingly at him.

“It is true that I will be beyond reach while you are there, but I believe that you are forgetting something very important. Sovngarde is the realm of Shor – my husband. I may not be able to help you in this part of your tale, but he will.”

After that revelation, Kirin and Lydia relaxed considerably. He’d never thought about the connection between the two during all of his brooding on the subject.

“Well, that certainly does change things!” exclaimed Kirin. “The road is yet dangerous, but maybe not as dire.”

“I’d still feel better if I were at your side,” said Lydia. “But I will pray to Shor and entrust him with your safe-keeping.”

Kyne nodded.

“It is always wise to pray for help – especially in the interest of love. I do not doubt that Shor will be ready to provide whatever assistance he can. But I will take my leave for now.”

As she rose to her feet, likewise did Kirin and Lydia. Ever respectful, he began to bow his head, but Kyne stopped him before he could.

“I’ve told you before – you need not be so proper.”

She then embraced him warmly and whispered in his ear.

“Good luck, my child.”

The goddess turned then to Lydia and also embraced her before disappearing into thin air. But what she whispered in Lydia’s ear, Kirin did not know. It seemed to please his love though, so he did not fret on it. Instead, he helped her clean up the mess from dinner before heading back out to the forge.

------------------------------------------------

Early morning came much too quickly for either of them. Kirin had worked long into the night on his new gear, and Lydia slept fitfully. After a quick breakfast, they went down to the armory where Lydia helped him strap on his new armor.

“Kirin this is…incredible. What have you the idea to craft this out of dragon bones and scales?”

“I’ve never fought against such a hardened opponent, so I figured it could offer me the same protection. I just wish it didn’t weigh so much.”

“Well, hopefully it gives you and edge. I’ve certainly never held such a stout bow or such a keen sword. I think your enemies will cower in fear at the sight of your approach.”

“Let’s hope they do.”

Geared up and ready, they left the house and made their way into the city of Whiterun. Atop the highest hill sat Dragonsreach, and the citizens of the town lined the path as Kirin and Lydia wound up it. Many of them wished the Dragonborn luck and offered their respects. He marveled at how fast rumors seemed to travel, but the well-wishers did raise their spirits. Pausing at the central garden, Kirin and Lydia knealt in prayer to Kyne beneath the beautiful flowering branches of the now restored Gildegreen. Its pink blossoms fell about them in a soft shower as the lightest zephyr blew in from the west.

After a moment in silence, they stood back up and continued the walk up to the keep. Pushing through the heavy wooden doors, the found Balgruuf at the ready.
“Come, Dragonborn. Let’s go trap a dragon.”

Kirin and Lydia followed him through the hall and out onto the Great Porch. There, a handful of guards stood at the ready as Kirin walked out under the sky and shouted into the air.

OD-AH-VIING.
Silence followed, broken only by the hesitant breathing of those on the porch, and the sounds of the throngs below. Even the birds were quiet, and it wasn’t long before the familiar roar of a dragon could be heard. Out of nowhere, the great orange beast swooped down and plucked a guard off of the balcony and flung him high into the air.

Odahviing circled once more allowing Kirin to unleash Dragonrend upon him and force him down onto the porch. He, Lydia, and the guards then lured the dragon back further in until the trap fell in place, securing him tightly to the ground.

“Zu'u bonaar. You went to a great deal of trouble to put me in this... humiliating position. Hind siiv Alduin, hmm? No doubt you want to know where to find Alduin?”
As the guards and Jarl Balgruuf watched in awe, Kirin spoke to Odahviing at length for several minutes before they came to an agreement that suited both parties. He then motioned for the guards to release the trap, and told the dragon that he’d be with him in a moment.

Pulling Lydia aside, we wrapped her in his arms and kissed her fiercely before making a promise to her.

“With Kyne and Mara as my witness, I swear to you that I will return from Sovngarde, and when I do we shall journey to Riften and be wed. Nothing will keep me from seeing that though – not even the World-Eater.”

Tears streamed gently down Lydia’s face as she held him tight.

“I will hold you to that, my love. For it is no longer just myself that you must return for.”

They separated and Kirin looked at her questioningly. Lydia beamed at him through her tears and continued on.

“Last night when Kyne embraced me, she told me of the signs I had missed with everything that’s been going on. The signs she recognized immediately when she came to visit."

She pulled him into her arms once more and whispered into his ear.

“I am with child, Kirin.”

Sovngarde

Odahviing dropped off Kirin in the ruins of Skuldafn, leaving the Champion of Kyne to fight his way through to the portal on his own. Hordes of Draugr and many dragons awaited him amongst the sprawling ruins nestled high in the Velothi Mountains. But within him lay a fiery determination – nothing would stop him from returning to the women he will wed, and his future child. Kirin kneeled in silent prayer to Kyne before unsheathing his newly smithed Dragonbone sworn christened with the name Tempest, in honor of the wind that guided him.

The draugr didn’t know what hit them as he dashed up the stairs at full speed and tore through their bony forms in seconds. Overheard a dragon roared in challenge while Kirin retreated back down the stairs and onto the open plain where Odahviing departed from. Accepting his own challenge, the beast landed on the ground in front of Kirin where it quickly met its fate. The onslaught from the Nord caught it off guard and within moments Kirin marched off as the dragon soul fueled his power even more.

He continued to tear through their lines with the fury of a tempest, decimating the patrolling dragur and anything else that lay in his path. Eventually he came before two huge iron-clad temple doors leading into the heart of Alduin’s ancient fane. The gaunt undead of the dragon cults roamed its long halls and high chambers in vast numbers. More than once Kirin needed to rest and regather his strength for the road ahead.

Nearly a full day had passed since he arrived in Skuldafn before he finally emerged from the temple to under a clear night sky. Masser and Secunda bathed the ruins in pale moonlight, illuminating the way for Kirin. He dispatched a few more draugr before coming to Alduin’s portal to Sovngarde. It was flanked on either side by two dragons who didn’t seem interesting in attacking, leaving only the Dragon Priest to stand in Kirin’s way.

The ever vigilant Nahkriin spotted Kirin on approach and immediately plucked his staff from the runed receptacle on the platform, closing the portal off from he who sought to enter Sovngarde. Facing a truly dangerous enemy for the first time since he arrived in Skuldafn, Kirin sought to even the odds quickly. As the powerful servant of Alduin raised his hands and shrieked in challenge, the Dragonborn released his Thu’um.

KRII LUN AUS

Staggering under the brunt impact of the ruinous shout, Nahkriin regained his composure before unleashing bolt after bolt of deadly lightning at Kirin. But it wasn’t enough to stop the Nord’s intense drive and soon enough, the Dragon Priest felt the deadly bite of dragonbone piercing his mottled flesh and sinew. Marked for Death had sunk in fully and after one final downward swing, Nahkriin roared in despair before disintegrating into a pile of ash.

Kirin sat hunched over in weariness upon the steps, collecting some strength before he reopened the portal. He knew not what he faced on the other side and so he rested for some time before fishing the staff out of Nahkriin’s remains. After saying another quick prayer to Kyne and a second one to Shor, he plunged the butt-end of the portal key into the dais and leapt into the opening gateway.

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Sovngarde was bathed in a deep fog that permeated throughout the large open valley that stood between Kirin and the mead hall of Shor, the Missing God. Alduin roamed the skies above but did not acknowledge the present of the Dragonborn who sought to challenge him. Seeing no alternative, Kirin walked down into the valley below, past the large stone statues of hooded figures.

Visibility was low in mist and he nearly ran into a Stormcloak soldier that wandered the mist in despair.

"Turn back, traveler! Terror waits within this mist!”

“Who are you?” asked Kirin.

"Near Giants' Gap, in the gloom before dawn, we marched, unsuspecting into the Imperials' trap. Then we stood and fought, our shield-wall defending until by dawn's light the Legion's ranks wavered. But I never knew if nights-end brought victory -- a swift-flying arrow to Sovngarde carried me."

“Do you know where this mist comes from?”

"I do not know -- but none have passed through. Alduin, his hunger insatiable, hunts the lost souls snared within this shadowed valley. Can you lead the way to where Shor's hall waits, beckoning us on to welcome long sought?"

“Yes, that is where I am headed. It is at the far end of the valley from here,” said Kirin.

“I saw it fair when first I trod this long sought path. The pain and fear vanished, dreamlike, and a vision beckoned to-- Shor's hall, shimmering across the clouded vale. But quenched was hope by the shrouding mist; darkened is my mind. I've lost the way and wander blindly. Hurry! Before Alduin your soul devours bring word to Shor's hall of our hard fate!"

And he wandered off into the mist, searching fruitlessly for the fabled hall of the Nord dead. Kirin followed the path into the mist, heading into the direction he espied the great hall from atop the entrance to Sovngarde, trusting his instincts to lead him through. Eventually they did, and the mist cleared before a massive bridge of whale bones that spanned an endless drop. There stood the largest Nord Kirin had ever laid eyes on. He stood at least seven feet tall and towered over Kirin, who was by no means considered short.

"I am Tsun, shield-thane to Shor. The Whalebone Bridge he bade me guard and winnow all those souls whose heroic end sent them here, to Shor's lofty hall where welcome, well earned, awaits those I judge fit to join that fellowship of honor. What brings you, wayfarer grim, to wander here, in Sovngarde, souls-end, Shor's gift to honored dead?"

“I pursue Alduin, the World Eater,” answered Kirin.

"A fateful errand. No few have chafed to face the Worm since first he set his soul-snare here at Sovngarde's threshold. But Shor restrained our wrathful onslaught - perhaps, deep counselled, your doom he foresaw. No shade are you, as usually here passes, but living, you dare the land of the dead. By what right do you request entry?"
"By right of birth. I am Dragonborn."

"Ah! It's been too long since last I faced a doom-driven hero of the dragon blood. But living or dead, by decree of Shor, none may pass this perilous bridge 'till I judge them worthy by the warrior's test."

Tsun unsheathed his mighty axe and stood at the ready, waiting for Kirin to prove his worthiness in battle. Readying his sword and shield, Tsun charged first with a swift attacked that Kirin deftly turned aside with his shield before countering with a series of lightning quick slashes.

The mighty warrior of old withstood the onslaught but stowed his weapons just after.

“You possess a talent unlike I have seen in many an age, Dragonborn. You fought well. I find you worthy. It is long since one of the living has entered here. May Shor's favor follow you and your errand.”

Kirin sheathed his sword and grasped Tsun’s shoulder in respect before crossing the massive bridge towards the doors of the fabled Hall of Valor.

Prophecy Unfurled

The Hall of Valor was massive and filled with the merriment of song and drink. Countless heroes of old roamed the mead hall of Shor in the warrior’s bliss. Barrels of the finest mead lines the walls and every table was laden with a never-ending supply of sumptuous food. Across the room from where Kirin entered sat the empty throne of Shor, nestled amongst the honored dead that Kyne’s husband normall feasted with.

As Kirin stepped down the stairs from the hall entrance, and her of old armored in the ancient irons of a long forgotten age greeted him warmly.


"Welcome, Dragonborn! Our door has stood empty since Alduin first set his soul-snare here. I am Ysgramor, first leader of the five hundred. By Shor's command we sheathed our blades and ventured not the vale's dark mist. But three await your word to loose their fury upon the perilous foe. Gormlaith the fearless, glad-hearted in battle; Hakon the valiant, heavy-handed warrior; Felldir the Old, far-seeing and grim.”

Ysgramor took his leave of Kirin and wandered off in search of more mead. The Dragonborn crossed the hall and knelt before the throne of Shor in honor and prayed for his help with the upcoming battle. Rising to his feet a few moments later, he turned to see the three warriors of which he learned Dragonrend from a few weeks prior. They stood in wait for him and in anticipation of what was to come.

He moved toward them and Gormlaith spoke first.

“At long last! Alduin’s doom is now ours to seal – just speak the word and with high hearts we’ll haste forth to smite the worm wherever he lurks!”

“Hold comrades,” interrupted Felldir. “Let us counsel take before battle is blindly joined. Alduin’s mist is more than a snare – its shadowy gloom is his shield and cloak.”

“Felldir speaks wisdom,” replied Hakon. “The World-Eater, coward, fears you, Dragonborn. We must drive away his mist, Shouting together, and then unsheathe our blades in desperate battle with our black-winged foe.”

“To battle my friends!” yelled Gormlaith. “The fields will echo with the clamor of war, our wills undaunted!”

Kirin nodded but did not follow them just yet.

“I must eat and drink something before we rush to our fate. My journey here has been long and perilous. I would rest for a few moments.”

------------------------------------------

An hour later Kirin arose from the food laden table and joined the fell warriors near the exit from Shor’s lofty hall.

“It is time, mighty heroes of old. Let us seek out Alduin and engage the worm in battle.”

With a might rallying cry that echoed throughout the Hall of Valor the four proud warriors surged out of the door and across the whalebone bridge. At the other side, Tsun wished them will in their goal as they ran past him and out onto the open field of battle.

They lined up on the grass below and Shouted in unison at the encompassing fogs spread throughout the realm.

LOK VAH KOOR

Alduin’s mist dissipated for a time, but far off in the distance his mighty Thu’um breathed it once more back into the fabled lands of Sovngarde as the powerful words echoed throughout. Kirin and his companions cleared it two more times before the World-Eater gave in and met them in his wrath.

“The endless wait gives way to battle!” said Gormlaith. “Alduin’s doom, his death or ours!”

The great black dragon swooped in from on high as bolides streamed down from the sky and crashed around them in fiery explosions. Sword at the ready, Kirin danced around the impacts carefully as he waited for Alduin to glide over them in a hover. Gormlaith, Felldir, and Hakon meanwhile loosed countless arrows at their foe and Shouted their own words of power in any attempt to weaken the beast. The opportunity finally presented itself to Kirin as Alduin came to stop above them. The Dragnborn crippled him with Dragonrend immediately, bringing down the dragon to the field of battle.

In rushed the warriors alongside Kirin as they hacked, slashed, and thrusted away at his heavily armored hide. For hours the battle waged on as the Nords dueled with Alduin’s full might beneath the forever starry sky of Sovngarde. This time though, Alduin was outmatch among the Dragonborn and his ancient enemies as they slowly whittled down his energy.
Nearby, Tsun watched in bewilderment at the incredible amount of power that clashed on the grass before him. Thu’ums rent the air like lightning in a storm as gouts of flame and frost rippled through the realm. Beneath his very feet the ground shook under the might of the battle waged outside of Shor’s Hall. Even he had to be midful of the meteors crashing to earth around all who were foolish enough to stand in watch.

Gormlaith, Hakon, and Felldir held their own in the perilous fight with the World-Eater, but they themselves were in awe of the speed and fury with which the Dragonborn assailed his destined foe with. Even after long hours of battle with Alduin his deadly sword of bone flashed as if a blur while he danced deftly around the dragon landing blow after blow and piercing his hide time and time again.

But he could not keep up the furious onslaught forever and his strength did begin to wane, but not before Alduin’s. With one final shout of Dragonrend, the worm crashed to the earth with a roar. Without hesitation, Kirin boldly dashed up to him, leapt upon the great spiked head of his foe and plunged his sword one final time with a force that pierced Alduin’s hardened scales and buried itself within the World-Eater’s skull.

Kirn leapt down to the ground as the mighty dragon began to thrash about in agony, Shouting into the skies in the desperate throes of death.

“Zu’u unslaad! Zu’u nis oblaan!”

A glow began to encompass the huge black body of Alduin and built up within until the scales, flesh, and bone of Akatosh’s firstborn were cast off in fiery implosion. The black soul beneath continued to writhe in defeat as Alduin’s life force rushed skyward in a blinding column of light before the World-Eater completely disintegrated in one final massive blast that shook even the realm of Shor.

Kirin rose to his feet and walked out onto the grass where his sword lay among the remains of his fabled enemy. Sheathing it in the scabbard at his waist, he turned to face the warriors of old that helped him in his mighty deed. They sang his praise and honored the Dragonborn for finally vanquishing their ancient foe and promised many songs in his honor within the Hall of Valor.
Now that the battle ended, Tsun approached him from his post to offer his respects.

"That was a mighty deed! The doom of Alduin encompassed at last, and cleansed is Sovngarde of his evil snare. They will sing of this battle in Shor's hall forever. But your fate lies elsewhere. When you have completed your count of days, I may welcome you again, with glad friendship, and bid you join the blessed feasting. When you are ready to rejoin the living, just bid me so, and I will send you back."

“I am ready, Tsun,” said Kirin. “My body is weary from the battle and I long to see my love.”

“Very well. Return now to Nirn, with this rich boon from Shor, my lord: a Shout to bring a hero from Sovngarde in your hour of need.”

NAHL DAAL VUS

------------------------------------------

When Kirin’s vision steadied upon his return to Skyrim, he found himself at the peak of the Throat of the World, where countless dragons sat atop the rocky spires and circled the mountaintop. None of them were hostile towards the Dragonborn, but seemed to be lamenting for the World-Eater. Their Shouts echoed through the air and all across the lands far below.

One by one they took to the sky until only Paarthurnax remained on his perch above the shrine.

"So, it is done. Alduin dilon. The Eldest is no more, he who came before all others, and has always been."

“Alduin brought this upon himself,” replied Kirin.

"Indeed. Alduin wahlaan daanii. His doom was written when he claimed for himself the lordship that properly belongs to Bormahu - our father Akatosh. Rok funta koraav. Perhaps now you have some insight into the forces that shape the vennesetiid... the currents of Time. But I forget myself. Krosis. So los mid fahdon. Melancholy is an easy trap for a dovah to fall into. You have won a mighty victory. Sahrot krongrah- one that will echo through all the ages of this world for those who have eyes to see. Savor your triumph, Dovahkiin. This is not the last of what you will write upon the currents of Time."

Paarthurnax then took to the sky and spoke to Kirin once more.

"Goraan! I feel younger than I have in many an age. Many of the dovah are now scattered across Keizaal. Without Alduin's lordship, they may yet bow to the vahzen... rightness of my Thu'um. But willing or no, they will hear it! Fare thee well, Dovahkiin!"

He began to circle the skies with the other dragons before they all filtered off one, leaving Odahviing alone to speak with Kirin. The dragon wished Paarthurnax well in his new quest, and honored Kirin’s mastery of the Thu’um, promising to help if called upon. Once he too left, Kirin began his descent down the mountain to High Hrothgar.

Exhausted from the perilous fight and subsequent climb down, he shoved his way through the door and into the monastery wanting only to lie down in a bed. Instead a figure rushed at him and pinned him to the wall in an embrace that took the wind out of him.

Lydia said nothing as she squeezed Kirin with tears running gently down her face. He returned the hug earnestly and idly ran his fingers through her hair.

“I’m ok, Lydia,” he reassured her. “Just very tired from the ordeal. Come…let’s go find a bed.”

Calm Winds and Low Tides

Kirn and Lydia slept soundly and well into the morning before waking up to eat and recount his trip to Sovngarde. Even Arngeir joined them to hear the tale firsthand. It took a decent amount of time to recount, during which Kirin never seemed to stop eating or drinking. All the while never letting go of Lydia’s hand.

It was the Greybeard who broke the silence that followed the harrowing recap.

"I can see it in your eyes. You've seen the land of the Gods and returned. But I have to wonder…is Alduin truly defeated?"

“We may only hope. I did not absorb his soul when he passed on, so I cannot say for certain if he is truly gone forever.”

"At last. It is over. Perhaps it was all worth it in the end. You've shown yourself mighty, both in Voice and deed. In order to defeat Alduin, you've gained mastery of dreadful weapons. Now it is up to you to decide what to do with your power and skill. Will you be a hero whose name is remembered in song throughout the ages? Or will your name be a curse to future generations? Or will you merely fade from history, unremembered? Let the Way of the Voice be your guide, and the path of wisdom will be clear to you. Breath and focus, Dragonborn. Your future lies before you."

-------------------------------------

Elysium Estate was a welcome reprieve when Kirin and Lydia finally made it home. The first thing they did was soak for several hours in the indoor spa to wash away the grime and relax Kirin’s tired muscles. Afterwards they cooked up a delicious meal to enjoy before heading outside to relax in the calm evening weather.

They laid out in the grass on a large fur blanket chatting amicably and care free for the first time in months. As an evening sun gave way to the dark of night, the sky remained clear and cloudless while they watched stars in complete content.

-------------------------------------

Over breakfast the next morning, Kirin and Lydia began to discuss the parting promise he made before hopping onto Odahviing’s neck and flying off to Skuldafn. And the advent of their child.

“So, when will we be headed to Riften, love?” asked Lydia. “You did promise you know.”

“Of course I did, and we may go at a moment’s notice, Lyds. Alduin is no more and our life is ours to live as we please now.”

“Tomorrow, then. We will leave at first light for the Temple of Mara.”

A soft breeze fluttered through the open window just before a light knock on the front door could be heard. Kirin stood up from his chair at the table and headed for the door knowing in his heart exactly who it would be. Pulling it open, he graciously welcomed the Goddess into Elysium and accept her loving embrace.

“I am proud of you, my child. You have fulfilled your destiny admirably while remaining true to yourself, Lydia, and to me. I will forever watch over you and guide you when you seek it.”

Kyne then beckoned Lydia to her and wrapped her in her arms as well.

“Lydia my dear, you too I shall always watch over your child too will be under my protection. Your place at Kirin’s side was instrumental in his deeds of valor and will forever be remembered as the Last Dragonborn’s loyal companion. And soon to be wife I take it?”

“Yes, Mother Kyne. We mean to make the journey to Riften tomorrow and will likely be wed the day after.”

Kyne smiled radiantly at the two of them as joyful tears filled her eyes.

“Then you will find the day to be idyllic. The weather is my realm and I shall see to it that there be not a cloud in the sky nor a single drop of rain. Ah �" and I must pay visit to my sister to discuss the ceremony. I will take my leave for now.”

“Thank you for visiting us, Mother,” said Kirin. “I was surprised to not have seen you sooner.”

“I knew of your success before you even returned to Tamriel, my dear. I also knew that you would need plenty of rest. Now then �" I will see you in two days.”
She embraced both Kirin and Lydia one more time before exiting the estate and resuming her hawk avatar.

-------------------------------------

It was a pleasant carriage ride from Whiterun down through to Riften and not a single man or creature troubled them along the way. The skies remained free and clear as if the entire world were celebrating the relief of fear that had permeated the spirit of Nirin for nearly a year.

Even the crime-ridden home of Mara’s temple had departed from its usual feeling of seediness and buzzed in a peaceful manner. Spirits were raised and countless folk who were not wholly oblivious to the dragon crisis praised the Dragonborn as they walked through the streets. Guards bowed their heads in respect and even the notorious Thieves Guild acknowledged the great victory that had been won.

Inside the temple, they arranged everything for the following day with Maramal. The priest was delighted to perform the ceremony and eager to wed the Hero of Skyrim and patron to Mara. Once the details were ironed out, Kirn and Lydia headed to the Bee and Barb for a quiet night of relaxtion before the big day.

-------------------------------------

Dawn broke over Skyrim in spectacular fashion as the bright orange rays of Magnus beamed down through the cloudless atmosphere. Breakfast had been arranged with Keerava the night before and they were not surprised in the least to find Kyne waiting for them at their pre-set table. But she had clothed herself in common attire of the age, rather than the ethereal dress that was normally worn.

“Come now and eat, we have a busy day ahead of ourselves.”

Kirin’s sat down to eat, but his ears perked up at the sound of a raucous din coming from outside in the town square.

“The whole town sounds as if it’s up in arms �" what in blazes is going on out there?”

“You didn’t really think it would be kept secret, did you?” asked Kyne. “News of the Dragonborn’s wedding spread across the province like a wildfire. I expect there to be a rather large party awaiting you after the ceremony.”

Kirin sighed.

“So much for a quick and quiet affair. Tell me Mother, when does this all begin?”

“Well, it looks like Lydia here is done eating, so I think now would be a good time. Come on, my dear �" let’s get you ready!”

Together As One (Epilogue)

Midday had come and Kirin stood in wait before Maramal at the temple altar. He was dressed in the finest attire he could possibly find and look far different than the dragon-armored warrior that charged into the afterlife. Now, Kirin waited anxiously for his bride to be.

The temple bell rang, ushering in noontime and the start of the ceremony. Viarmo himself had come from the Bards College and sat in the corner, gently plucked a soothing song of joy on his lute. The chapel had been adorned in white streamers of fine linen and next to the banners of Mara were new banners honoring Kyne – the Dragonborn’s chosen divine.

Outside in the town square waited a large crowd party goers in earnest, but inside the temple there was naught but Kirin, Maramal, and Viarmo. Dinya Balu was to escort Lydia in at the proper time and that time had come. A soft rustling could be heard as footsteps approached the chapel hall from the side antechamber. The doors were thrown open by Dinya and walked Lydia, the bride to be.

She was dressed in a long, silky dress the color of a blue spring sky. The fabric flowed as if the gentlest of breezes whispered though it and shimmered under the candlelight like gentle raindrops in a clear sky. Kirin never doubted nor ignored her beauty but on this day it was amplified into one of the most aetherial things he ever had the privilege to lay eyes on. Atop her head sat a simple tiara made of flowered branches with pink blossoms and it radiated a white glow that Kirin recognized from all those months ago when they sat in the garden beneath the Eldergleam.

Lydia’s smile could have lit the darkest corners on Nirn as she approached the altar and Kirin, her love. To his amazement, she was followed by two unexpected handmaidens who wore simple dresses of yellow and carried bouquets of Eldergleam blooms. Kyne and Mara both winked at Kirin as they passed and stood to Lydia’s side.

Maramal beamed widely at them and began the ceremony.

“Thank you all for gathering to be here on this blessed day. It was Mara that first gave birth to all of creation and pledged to watch over us as her children. It is from her love of us that we first learned to love one another. It is from this love that we learn that a life lived alone is no life at all. We gather here today under Mara’s loving gaze, to bear witness to the union of two souls in eternal companionship. May they journey forth together in this life and the next, in prosperity and poverty, and in joy and hardship.”

He then turned to Lydia, and continued.

“Do you agree to be bound together, in love, now and forever?”

“I do,” said Lydia, firmly. “Now and forever.”

Maramal nodded and moved on to Kirin.

“Do you agree to be bound together, in love, now and forever?”

“I do. Now and forever.”

“The under the authority of Mara, the Divine of Love, I declare this couple to be wed! I present you with these matching rings, blessed by Mara’s Divine grace. May they protect each of you in your new life together. You many now kiss your lovely bride.”

And Kirin did not need to be told twice. He wrapped his bride in his arms and kissed her warmly as Maramal, Dinya, Kyne, and Mara clapped through tears of joy and love. After the parted, the Divines hugged each of them in turn before quietly taking their leave.

“There are far too many prying eyes out there, my child,” whispered Kyne. “We shall see you at a later hour.”

“Now it is time to celebrate!” said Dinya. “Let us go outside for the reception!”

Kirin and Lydia stood side by side and hand in hand as they followed Dinya and Maramal out into the packed town square to a riotous burst of cheer from the gathered crowd. Flower petals rained down from the private balconies of the homes to the side of the temple.

The vendor stalls had all been removed from the center and replaced with long tables laden with food and drink. Barrels of the finest Black-Briar mead were tapped as the mead began to flow, and plates of delicious food were filled and passed to all, not the least of whom was the married couple. Kirn and Lydia were seated at a high table in front of Mistveil Keep where they were joined by friend and allies. Among them sat Jarl Baalgruuf, Irileth, Esbern, Delphine, Ysolda, and Hulda. And - much to Kirin’s amazement – Arngeir. The Greybeard master had descended from High Hrothgar for the first time in countless years for what he considered a momentous occasion for Skyrim.

The newlyweds and all in attendance feasted and drank for many hours as the sounds of merriment echoed throughout the Rift. The sky remained a cloudless blue, just as Kyne had promised and for the first time in ages, Kirin and Lydia enjoyed themselves free of cares.

Once the feast ended, new kegs of mead were broached and the tables of food were cleared. Viarmo gathered up his fellow bards from Solitude and started playing lively song after song. Throngs of people paired up and began to dance around the town square, laughing and singing along to the band as they played with vigor.

Darkness was approaching quickly as the sun began to set. Kirin and Lydia sat atop the steps to Mistveil and watched the orange sun slowly sink over the horizon. Just before the last light of day slipped over the horizon, two large figure appeared far off to the west, circling down from the Throat of the World. As they got closer, the unmistakable roars of a dragon thundered across Lake Honrich causing quite the stir among the party-goers. Kirin looked to Arngeir who sat nearby with Balgruuf and as the old Greyberd caught his gaze, he nodded reassuringly to Kirin.
The dragons approached with all speed before gliding high above the city, breathing ice and frost into the skies above. Paarthurnax and Odahviing too had come to pay their respects to the Dragonborn.

“Alok Zeymah ahrk Briinah dii! Aal hi mahfaeraak nahlaas ko drem!”

Kirin rose to his feet, looked skyward and responded in kind.

“Kogaan, zok dovah fahdon. Aal paaz ven aak hin alun amativ.”

His voice echoed upwards into the heavens as the crowd watched in awe at the spectacle before them. The dragons roared in acknowledgment and circled one final time before flying back off into the vast and empty sky.

Within seconds the party noise kicked back up once again as people resumed their drinking and dancing under the fair autumn night. Thankfully, Kyne had retuned and sat next to them upon the stone stairs overlooking the square.

“I gather you are ready to retire for the evening, my children?”

“Very much so, Mother,” replied Lydia. “We are wed and look forward to our quiet life ahead of us.”

“Excellent. Follow me, dears.”

She led them around to the back of Mara’s temple where the Goddess of Love awaited them.

“I offer you my blessing once more, Kirin and Lydia. May you go forth in life forever happy and never wanting. Hardships may come, but stay true to each other and your love will endure for eternity.”

Holding them both by the hand she bowed her head and vanished from sight. Kyne then grabbed their hands in Mara’s place and spoke to them once more.

“Would you desire a honeymoon at home in Elysium, or somewhere far from prying eyes? You need only ask, and I will whisk you away to my realm, far above the western sea and beyond the reach of any being, mortal or not. There you shall never want and need only speak what you desire. Bliss awaits under forever clear skies and upon white beaches.”

Kirin and Lydia knelt before her and accepted the offer of paradise.

“Very well, my children. I shall return for you in two weeks’ time.”

The goddess bid them to stand up and with a slight wave of her hand, husband and wife vanished from Tamriel for a well-earned respite from reality.

That's a wrap! Plenty of typos in there, sorry about that. I think I originally typed that one right into the reply boxes at Haven, rather than in MS Word.


I'll post the second volume (Linnea's story, the vampire character I was posting screenies of) soon, once I finish proofreading the second draft in Word. It's much longer, currently clocked in at 94 pages and 100,860 words. I will probably just upload it to my google drive as a pdf and link it here for anyone that wants to read it. Fifty-six chapters, plus the prologue and epilogue is a lot to post one at a time!

Nice to have another story up here that prominently features Kyne/Kynareth.

My writing has improved a bunch in the six years between books, too, apparently the time was good to me. Lot more character writing in volume two, but it still relies on the plot of the game a good bit. I haven't branched out to doing my own world building. Yet.

Okay, so I am starting a read of this thread. Gonna start checking out everyone's stories in this forum, as it's been my habit in the past to read everyone's tales in the past at Bethsoft, referring to our story threads which pertained to Oblivion and Skyrim. Hope you don't mind.

Firstly, are you writing from experience or imagination? Experience meaning: this story was based on some gaming? Either way, the beginning is lovely. Visual imagery and details from an outside source, which culminates toward the sickly runner crashing through underbrush.

Wow. So Kirin's got a calling to fulfill. Let's see where this goes next. I'll read each chapter per weekly, taking them slow, just because that's my habit.

This one and book two were both based on characters I made and I did play out their stories along the framework of the stories they tell. However, book three is off the rails and only utilizes the setting and some existing NPCs. The narrative has moved beyond Skyrim and its quests.


Edit: here is Kirin (and Lydia) circa 2018 - https://i.imgur.com/gG2qo6W.png

Okay, thanks for explaining. So with the third book your imagination took over more strongly, so to say.

Kirin is handsome. Ha! My paladin was just at that very spot! Let me see, hold on. Yep, there he is! That's Lord Haaf-Mersey, one of my Xbox characters. Anyway, Kirin's quite a looker.

He's reminiscing some better days of Helgen. Good thing that 'immense being' didn't notice your guy standing on the road.

He's going into Bleak Flats Barrow, yikes. Has he ever dealt with draugr before?

Here is my bookmark.


http://chorrol.com/forums/index.php?s=&...st&p=359075

Almost entirely, to the point I was nervous more than once because I had no story framework to follow. It's a leap for me.


Boy, I forgot how different the game looks on Xbox. I played exclusively on my 360 from 2011 until I built my first PC in 2015. I've been running graphic mods and LODs for so long that I'd forgotten how low the draw distance was pre-SE.



He may not have by that point, it's been too long for me to remember. I usually explore and get up to other hi-jinks that aren't written about if they don't fit the story, so it's possible he'd been in other dungeons just to help with leveling up.

Oh yeah I still play on consoles occasionally. Something about being restricted to THE GAME. On PC, my prob is I'm spending anywhere from 10 to 50% of the time exiting the game. Tweaking something in the editors, turning a mod on or off, etc. It's rather distracting honestly, and sometimes I have to force myself to just play the game instead of the Creation Kit or GECK or whatever.

Anyway, The Wheel Turns is the next chapter. Kirin seems quite experienced. He's not bothered by most of the draugr, or by Arvel (pretty sure that's the thief who gets caught in that spider web) only by Skyrim's traps and puzzles. Maybe such things are new to him. The Nords did things differently than the Ayleids down south, or the ancients who built all those forts.

Alright shhhh... gotta read!

Yeah, he just got Fus Ro Dah'd!

Lady Kyne "tells" him he must not drop the heavy stone by using a sudden breeze, that's deep. It's also Kirin's fate, as we can see. Hope he can handle it.

-----------------------------

I like when it says it's the "most harrowing experience in Kirin's life".

He seems shocked when the dragon's lifeforce sweeps into him!

He slips away with a mug of mead. 🍺

--------------------------------------------

"My days of seeking glory are over," he says. Hmm. I like how there was a party at the Bannered Mare. I bet there was some spillover at The Drunken Huntsman too.

Kyne speaks to Kirin, as she speaks also to Buffy! See that's a good plot device to include into the story. Lest there's any doubt in Kirin's mind about visiting the Greybeards, Kyne's prompting the mortal into action as well.

--------------------------------------------

Lydia doesn't it when Kirin thanks her for 'calling me thane!"

Ah, Kirin is from Morthal, interesting. Such a backwater burg. Little did everyone know the greatness Kirin would achieve.

Whoa, he can change the weather.


http://chorrol.com/forums/index.php?s=&...st&p=359088

I like the part where Kirin tells Lydia he's avoiding Labyrinthian because his route should be safer, only to be attacked X time later by a random dragon!

You were playing on Xbox, correct? If so, those dragon attacks were way too frequent in my opinion. I grew up table gaming in high school/college; dragons were rare in those games, they wouldn't be showing up every other darn day. I could never get used to this!

Why does Kirin worry Igrod will recognize him?

I am here.

Nah, this was 2018, so lightly modded Skyrim on PC. But that dragon at Eldersblood Peak is always there after you meet the Greybeards for the first time.


I'll be honest, the Morthal stuff never went anywhere for Kirin once the main quest began to unfold. His past in the sticks became irrelevant once he learned how grim the dragon threat was.