I, Draugr Chapter 44

The wind gently rustles the leaves of the trees, a soothing noise that is both loud yet gentle.

The deer in the clearing doesn't care about it. Its head is hanging low, grabbing a mouthful of grass before lifting back up and looking around, clearly still alert for predators while it munches away at the food in its mouth.

And then an arrow punches straight through its skull, and the animal crumbles to the ground like a puppet having its strings cut.

"Hah! Headshot!" Gretel shouts, jumping out of the bush she was hiding in, "Get fucked, idiot!"

Yes, that is the attitude a Call of Duty player has. Brings back some good ol' memories, I'll admit.

I stand up out of cover with a sigh and pat the cheering brat on the head, "Shouldn't you… You know, hit it where it would then be able to run away? Isn't the chase the best part of the hunt?"

Gretel shrugs, "I'd rather chase something that then fights back, not something that would keep running until it dies." I hum and pat her again.

"Still, that was a damn good shot." She preens under my praise, eyes sparkling with happiness as she skips forward to check on her prey.

"Aela is a good teacher!" Gretel states, jumping behind the dead deer so to pull out the arrow for her small bow. Which somehow packed quite the punch. "Though I guess Hircine is helping me cheat a bit…"

Probably part of the powerful blessing she and her family carries. Some form of boost related to hunting, empowering her and any gear she uses to go through the Hunt successfully.

"A good shot is a good shot still." I state as I approach the carcass, "The most adorable Huntress strikes again, it seems." With a soft chuckle in my words, I reach down to pick her up and place her over my shoulders, letting her sit there as she giggles happily.

That beautiful noise soothes my aching Soul quite a bit.

"Wait, what did I strike first?" Gretel asks, suddenly confused.

"A Dragon." I reply flatly, squatting down to grab one leg of the dead deer so I could drag it along.

"Huh…" Realization hits, "Man, that fucker was yummy…" I hope she isn't drooling on my head, else I'll tickle her until she cries.

"I'm pretty sure you are the only one that looks at a Dragon and thinks about eating them." I chuckle as I pat her small right leg as I walk through the thick forest, the light of the bright morning sun shining down through the thick foliage, making for a rather beautiful sight.

There's a lingering mist from the change in temperatures, further enhancing the beauty of the view, making it appear ethereal. Like a place straight out of a fantasy.

Which it is. I forgot.

"Hey! I was hungry!"

"When are you not hungry?"

"When am sleepin', duh!" This adorable brat.

I sigh and shake my head, stepping over a massive root of a large tree, its bark torn and covered in large scratches, likely from a rather massive bear.

The forest is beautiful and thriving, overflowing with animals – I even saw a Spriggan in the distance a bit ago – and looks like the perfect paradise for hunters.

Gretel used to come here before she met us, hunting by herself for fun or out of boredom.

It would have probably been how those twisted fucks that came after her would have-… I shake away those thoughts, wishing the deep calming 'breaths' I take to actually work for once.

"...Are you still angry, Leo?" Gretel asks softly, her tiny hands visibly clutching at the edges of my hood.

I hum softly, "A little bit." Killing Hevnoraak and Vulthuryol did not quell that fury one bit.

Even making them both scream in pain, destroying them so utterly with pure power… It didn't feel satisfying. Gratifying. I felt nothing.

"...I'm sorry." My steps come to a pause as Gretel whispers those words.

My hand lets go of the dead deer's legs, and then I reach up to grab the small child, lift her off my shoulders, and hold her in front of me. "You have nothing to apologize for." I tell her, bringing her into a hug that she latches on, her eyes already red and filled with tears.

"I'm the one that should apologize." I whisper, hugging her tightly, "If I didn't fuck up… If I didn't mess around like a goddamn idiot… So many lives wouldn't have been lost. Your grandma…"

Gretel shakes her head against my shoulder, sniffling softly, "She would have still died soon." She whispers softly, "Either of old age, or another Dragon attack…"

I hate it. I hate that she is right.

And I hate being unable to be everywhere.

And I hate that I want to save and protect everyone.

Because I know that the moment that I kill that part of me, then I'll go down a path that will turn me into a monster similar to Alduin.

I look down, staring at the shadows that expand forth from my feet, swallowing the fallen leaves, the grass, the flowers, and the tree roots.

The black tar making up the vile darkness bubbles and ripples, billions of twisted, malicious eyes peeking out from within that abyss.

I breathe in, and that expanding darkness disappears like it was never there, latching back on my pitch black robes and clothing.

"At least now she is likely terrorizing everyone within Hircine's hunting grounds…" Gretel muses softly, a gentle giggle flowing past her lips, making me snort as she pulls back and wipes her eyes.

Holding her against me with one arm, I grab the deer once more and resume my walk back to our temporary camp, feeling just a tiny bit better than before.

Though, this series of events did bring me an enormous increase in power, enough to finally give me confidence to go to Saarthal with the rest.

I'd say that I've been blessed by Sheogorath, but I can somehow tell that this is just a minor one. I haven't been made his Champion or anything of the sort, I've just… Been given a way to weaponize a part of his Realm.

It's powerful. Very, very powerful. I can infect existence itself with my own will, cover it with a form of taint that seemingly connects to an empty void filled with these beings that I can just shape to my will.

It is all like a Hive Mind of sorts. I can control them, see through them, act through them, and speak through them. They are an extension of me. A creation of my own.

[The Dark Below]

An ever-expanding, tainted pool of endless darkness, from which unthinkable horrors can spawn from.

They are an extension of the creator, fabricated within their mind with or without their knowledge.

The darkness expands forth through the usage of Magicka, and must always remain connected to the Creator, lest it disappears.

It's powerful. Very much so. It gives me a millions limbs to act through, so many eyes to look through, and literal horrifying armies to call upon.

And it's not even a Spell. I wonder if I can upgrade it with a Dragon Soul in the future.

Speaking of Spells though… I've gained two new Spell slots with this sudden Evolution out of my control.

It left me without any Souls out of the ten-thousand that I had, but I know for a fact that I've gained an enormous amount of power and Magicka.

And I already know one of the two Spells I want to start modifying. Ward Skin.

Juggernaut already makes me a tank in terms of damage I can take, and with Ward Skin I can also make myself even tougher towards Spells. I'd rather become an unstoppable force, after all.

So that's what I'll focus on. I dunno about the other Spell Slot, but I'll think about it in the future. For now, I have other things to focus on.

Voices soon reach my ears as I get closer and closer to the edge of our temporary campsite.

"-the opposite of the Flesh Type Spells from the Alteration schools." I hear Hildr explain, "Just keep the flow of Magicka through your body going, but don't gather it right above your skin."

Aurelia, who was sitting right beside Hildr, makes a cute noise of understanding, "So it has a similar application to the Flesh Spells, yet the physical enhancement is far greater." Ah, Hildr is helping her get Reinforcement down, it seems.

Hell, even Odahviing is paying attention, laying on the ground behind them and listening in like a curious cat.

Hildr nods with a small smile, "Plus, Flesh Spells are broken if the outer shield takes too much damage. Reinforcement can only be disrupted if you lose concentration." Leaning back, Hildr's lone eye widens lightly when she takes note of me and Gretel coming back, "With your enormous reserves, you can keep using for a long time."

I put Gretel down, letting her run into Hildr's arms, who swiftly picks her up and kisses her cheek warmly.

"We got a deer, if you girls are hungry." I speak up, raising the large deer in question up, "Or in case the Dragon wants a snack."

Odahviing snorts softly at my words, visibly amused. That lone snort nearly toppled over a tree, goddamn.

"Huh…" Hildr blinks in clear surprise, then looks down at Gretel, "You actually listened to Aela's teachings? Why don't you do that with me?"

Gretel shrugs, "'Cause you're boring, duh!" Her answer is met with a surprise tickle attack that leaves the child squealing and begging for mercy within three seconds.

Hildr, of course, does not grant her that mercy and keeps on the assault.

Ignoring the squeals and cries from the two sisters, I turn towards Aurelia, "How do you like my Spell?"

The woman smiles brightly at me and pats the spot beside her, "I feel like I can punch a mountain and make it disappear!" I snort as I sit down beside her.

"Pretty sure you could already do that before." Mainly because of those bullshit powerful Dragon Blades of hers. The fire one is horrendous. "But let us not test that theory, yes?"

She grins cheekily at me, "Why? There's plenty of mountains around. One less won't bother anyone!" I've really infected her with my idiot personality, huh?

I love it.

"I fear what the likes of Deinmaar would be capable of doing with such a Spell." Odahviing muses from behind us, making me perk up and hum in interest.

"Yeah, he is a physical powerhouse, huh?" What I saw in our fight at the temple and against Alduin was barely the tip of the iceberg in terms of his strength.

His armor basically freezes his body in time, making him stop aging and needing food, water, sleep and other bodily functions, but remaining still for thousand of years still dulled him quite a bit.

His senses aren't as sharp, and he has lost the fine control over his strength and magic he used to have.

I'm sure that sparring with Aurelia will help him recover very quickly, and I am eager to witness his titanic strength. Especially once it is further enhanced by Reinforcement.

Hell, maybe I can help him come up with his own version of Juggernaut.

He did say he isn't good at learning Magic, yet he still managed to achieve Synchrony with his Fire and Lightning Magic to create literal fucking plasma.

The only other person I know that achieved Synchrony between two elements is Aurelia, but that is mainly due to her being blessed by Arkay. Her Holy Magic and Fire Magic have fused to create Sunfire, and that is a permanent change.

Hildr can't really do it due to her having only a Fire Affinity, while I can't either because Ice and Lightning can't really mix.

Hevnoraak instead achieved that level by using the Fork of Horripilation. I recognized it at first glance, and its capabilities were exactly what I expected.

It was a crutch, hence why I broke it instead of grabbing it for myself. I didn't want to risk me using it to skip the practice and learning part.

And even if I didn't break it, Kara would have likely destroyed it herself. She absolutely loathes artifacts that assist people in skipping stages of learning, especially when it comes to magic.

Already it was a miracle that she did not erase the Folium Discognitum when I showed it to her, but I believe that distaste is mainly because it played a part in Shalidor basically being a deadbeat dad and husband in her and her mother's life.

I shake away those thoughts and turn my head to stare at Aurelia.

A warm smile lit up her breathtaking face, and she looks so mature now. So alive, so happy. She is beautiful.

She takes note of my gaze, and while her pale cheeks flush slightly, she doesn't shy away from it as her smile grows a bit more.

I flick my gaze past her, where Hildr is still bullying Gretel, but her lone eye flicks towards me, and she smiles warmly too and throws a wink my way.

I chuckle softly, any worries and fears just melting away. I shouldn't have been worried about them being afraid or disgusted by me after seeing my new horrifying power.

Especially since once they caught up with me after I was done slowly tearing Vulthuryol apart, both Aurelia and Hildr did not hesitate to hug me tightly, even when I was drenched in blood.

"When we have some time off…" I start, speaking softly while turning towards Aurelia, "There's something I want to tell you." I think it is time I stop holding back.

I've been bottling everything up, believing that as an Undead I can't enjoy the little things, and that I can't have a relationship when I can't give the one I cherish anything…

But I'm done pussy-footing around. I want to be honest with what I feel.

Aurelia blinks, her bright eyes widening minutely and her cheeks growing more and more red. And then comes the shyness as she averts her gaze like a bashful girl, staring down so that her long hair could fall down and cover her face.

...Though, how the fuck do I breach the subject of Hildr?

You know what? I'm letting her handle this.

So, like the little shit I am, I give Hildr a thumbs up and extend a small patch of darkness her way, then up her side and to her ear, where I create a small mouth to whisper- "You tell Aurelia about your feelings from me. Good luck!"

And then I cut the connection as Hildr stiffens up, and I could almost see the imaginary wolf ears pop up on her head from how startled she is.

I, of course, look away and start whistling without a care in the world when she throws me a look overflowing with pure panic and horror.

Ah… What a nice day!

….Oh right, I do have a Dragon Soul now after I killed Vulthuryol! I was so distracted by my anger that I must have missed the notification.

Though, to be fair, my System seems to have… Changed. For some reason, I don't seem to be able to Evolve my Class anymore.

I don't have a Soul requirement like before, but I don't think it is permanent. I think I probably need to find or discover something that will once more push me forward.

Though, I do know one thing now. I can absorb normal Souls whenever I want to grow stronger now. I can just consume them at will.

The stronger I become, the more I start to understand the System and learn how it works almost automatically.

Not that absorbing each Soul I come across will give me large boosts in power. I'll only start doing that once they become useless for the Evolutions of my Spells.

Speaking of Souls… I have not encountered a Grand Soul just yet, no matter who I killed. Perhaps it isn't something that powerful individuals and mages like Dragon Priests have like I initially thought. It clearly is different from the game.

I'll ask Kara, if I even remember to do so once I see her again.

Either way, the new Dragon Soul I have… I have half a mind to Evolve Juggernaut with it, but I stop myself.

My Spells have grown horrendously powerful thanks to my recent Evolution, but… I've neglected one thing for far too long.

[Draconic Chant]

Through the mix of normal Magic Incantation, Mana Weaving method and the Reality Bending Thu'um, a new type of Chanting is born.

Before launching a Spell, Chant a Word of Power that matches it to enormously enhance its power.

Currently, a two Chants can be used. Increase the number of Chants to be chained by upgrading this Spell through the usage of only Dragon Souls.

This Spell cannot Evolve.

(2/10)

Possibly my greatest asset, and one that makes my Spells even more terrifying. One Word was already an immense boost, and now I can add a second one to the mix.

With this, I now have even greater power that can be used in all kinds of ways, and that can be mixed with Original Runes.

...I should really start studying Original Runes more. I've just been using them in a rough and barbaric way, after all.

I shake away those thoughts when the sound of rustling reaches my ears, and I turn my head towards the woods just in time to see Deinmaar's massive form come into view as he pats some fallen leaves off his shoulders.

"Back already?" I call out, and the giant Atmoran perks up, the red eyes beneath his helmet brightening up in a smile.

"Brother!" I chuckle at his jovial call, "Are you feeling better?"

I make a so-so gesture, "Still furious, but can't do nothing about that." He sighs deeply and pats my shoulder once he stands beside me and takes a seat on the fallen log, "Did you find what you were looking for?"

He nods and straightens himself, "It wasn't hard to find, even with how wrecked the temple was." I can hear the smile in his voice as he speaks, "Hevnoraak's treasury is intact, and it is filled to the brim with valuable items, enchanted artifacts and Spell Staves."

I whistle at that. That fucker really was a hoarder, huh? "How should we even use that? We ain't really lacking in funds, after all…" Thanks to Ulfric's very kind donation.

Deinmaar hums, crossing his massive arms as he lowers his head in thought, "They could be funds for the cities that need to prepare for the Dragons?"

I pause at that. Of course he'd think about others. He never even thought about keeping that stuff for himself.

Oh well, it would also feel like dirty gold since it is stuff that Hevnoraak gained in his rather disgusting ways.

"Yeah, they could really use that stuff." Especially since we brought them a lot of time after me and Deinmaar fucked up Alduin, and Aurelia butchered the Dragons that attacked Whiterun.

There will still be probing attacks, that's a given, but I believe they now will focus on rebuilding their army. Meaning, they'll look around and recruit more Dragon Priests so that they can be used to plan out attacks.

The problem is that the remaining Dragon Priests are the very old, very powerful ones. The Elders of the Dragon Council.

Morokei is a monster, to not speak about how he has the Staff of Magnus in his hands to further bolster him.

Otar the Mad is a very, very powerful Necromancer that can raise immense armies far easier and far greater than what Krosis did back against Whiterun.

Then there are still Vokun and Volsung. These two aren't sealed like Morokei and Otar the Mad, and while still Elders, they aren't anywhere as terrifying as the other two.

Hence, once we deal with Saarthal, we'll pay those two a visit and take them out.

"Brother…" Deinmaar starts, pulling me out of my thoughts and making me turn towards him, his gaze turning a bit complicated as he keeps going, "This Whiterun is where she is… Right?"

I pause, then realize what he is asking about.

Dinok.

I nod, "Yeah. She is sealed beneath it." I had told him about this the day before Vulthuryol attacked once more, and his reaction was… Weird. "You want to see her?"

He doesn't answer me instantly as he lowers his head, then nods after a few quiet seconds. "I think I should."

I nod and pat his massive shoulder in comfort. "I'll be there with you, don't worry."

With that said, I pat my legs and stand up.

"Alright, shall we go then?"

~~XXX~~

His steps echoed across the wide hall, the gaze of countless masked statues staring down at him. To him, these gazes always felt arrogant. He never understood why.

He hated this temple from the first time he stepped foot inside it.

The tall statues of the Elders. Imposing sculptures made out of fine marble, and the masks made out of pure gold.

All the money used into making these things could have gone towards the poorer districts of Bromjunaar… But no, they were wasted on such useless things, because a Dragon Priest said so.

His red eyes flick away from the statue of Lord Morokei, and his right leg goes to move before he freezes.

The air on the back of his neck stand on end, and goosebumps cover all of his body as he shudders in place.

A soft sound reaches his ears. The sound of bare feet walking on stone. Gentle, quiet and slow steps.

Slowly, Deinmaar turns his head just as the other presence within the massive hall nears him.

Long, wavy white hair cascade down a thin, slightly hunched over figure draped in a tattered black cloak.

Dinok, Deinmaar realizes. No wonder the Grand Temple was empty… All the other Dragon Priests must have vacated it once they heard that Dinok was wandering around.

The thin woman, barely even half as tall as Deinmaar's immense form, turns her head left and right, looking lost and confused.

Her face resembled that of a beautiful porcelain doll, looking both fragile and cute. Yet none dared say such things, nor does anyone ever dare even speak in her presence.

Deinmaar wets his lips, then sighs softly, "Dinok." He calls out gently. Warmly, even.

The minute Snow Elf comes to a halt, her head tilting, her long white hair moving to reveal her pale, unseeing eyes as she looks in the general direction of his voice.

"Are you looking for Konahriik?" He questions gently, knowing not to underestimate the blind woman due to her crippled eyes.

For even though she held no magical capabilities… Dinok was the strongest, and most feared Thu'um user to ever exist so far.

A lone whisper of hers could erase Bromjunaar and the surrounding region off the maps with laughable ease.

There was no surviving her.

Slowly, the minute woman nods, "Ko… Nah… Riik…" She whispers, voice hoarse. Sad.

Deinmaar smiles, "I'm sure she is looking for you too." Alas, Konahriik's duties as High Priestess always kept her busy, keeping her from visiting her twin. Something both disliked. "I'll take you to her, if you want."

Dinok remains quiet, head still tilted… Before she nods softly, a thin and cute smile spreading across her pale lips.

Her small hand reaches out and finds Deinmaar's forearm, and the giant Atmoran smiles softly and leads the way.

...Did he just become her caretaker?

That memory was a fond one for Deinmaar. He did, indeed, become Dinok's caretaker after that encounter.

He started helping the twin sisters find each other from that day on, helping them spend their day together even if Konahriik was swamped in paperwork.

Dinok never minded that. She was quiet, and just wanted to be in the presence of her sister, even if there was no talking being done.

And now… Here he stood, before the rusted doors right before the seal that contained her.

A seal that was useless, for a lone whisper of hers could obliterate it and allow her to escape.

"You ready?" His new closest friend asks softly, and Deinmaar gives Leonidas a slow nod.

The priest that had led them down here had left after Leonidas' urging, just to be safe. The poor man was on the verge of fainting just by being out here.

Turning around, the robed form of Leonidas caked in that new darkness that never left him, proceeded to open the lock of the rusted metal doors… Then slowly pry them open.

And there, inside the small room, and sitting upon that small elevated altar, was her.

A skeleton covered in a familiar tattered black cloak. A cloak that Dinok cherished deeply.

Deinmaar blinks, and suddenly the skeleton is standing right in front of the golden barrier, the blade that was in her lap discarded and forgotten.

Slowly, Deinmaar crouches down on one knee and removes his helmet so that his small smile could be visible, "Hello there, Dinok."

The featureless black mask stares at him, and he could feel the intensity behind that gaze. The raw emotion.

"Dein… Maar." A whisper reaches his ears, sounding soft. Fragile. Happy.

His smile grows before he looks down at the corpses that lay beyond the barrier. Rusted armors and weapons, and broken skeletons. "Why are you here, Dinok?"

He had so many questions.

How did she lose her body? What happened to her? Why did she let herself be sealed in here?

But Dinok does not answer the question he decided to ask, and simply tilts her head at him, "Ko… Nah… Riik?" She whispers once more, sounding desperate. Hopeful.

Deinmaar's smile turns sad, a deep longing filling his own eyes, "I don't know. I am looking for her too." He answers softly, and the skeleton's shoulders sag at his words.

Where was she? What happened to her? Was she safe?

"Kro… sis…" Dinok whispers once more, expressing the sorrow she was feeling as she turned around and slowly walked back towards the spot she had been sitting on.

Deinmaar opened his mouth to speak, but he didn't know what he could say. He wanted to bring Dinok along, but… He had doubts.

He had doubts on her allegiance, for she never fought in the war.

When Konahriik battled Alduin after his imprisonment so to buy time for the resistance to take out the majority of the stronger Dragons through the well planned ambushes he had knowledge, he had kept an ear out for Dinok.

But she never did anything. She never fought against the resistance… Nor did she go and assist her beloved twin in her battle against Alduin.

Had the two twins teamed up against the World-Eater, then they could have grievously wounded the beast. Their might, together, could pose a threat to even Alduin in his prime.

Something that only two other Dragons were capable off.

The Knowledge Saint, and the Blade Saint.

Yet… Dinok never helped her twin sister, and Konahriik was now lost, with her whereabouts unknown.

So even if he deeply cared for the minute blind woman he used to take care for… The skeleton before him might not be the same person.

His head lowers as he sighs deeply, before perking up when a hand enters his line of sight, holding a small key.

"You can stay here with her for a bit, if you want." Leonidas tells him, and Deinmaar does not miss the way Dinok freezes at the sound of his voice.

"Thank you, brother." Still, Deinmaar takes the key, smiling as Leonidas pats his shoulder and goes back up the steps.

And when the Atmoran turns back towards the open doorway, he pauses when he takes note of Dinok standing right before the barrier once more, her gaze now focused intensely on Leonidas' departing form.

"Dinok…?" He calls out softly, but the Undead does not answer nor move, her gaze clearly following Leonidas' until his form disappeared from her line of sight.

Only then did her shoulders slump once more, and she turned around to stumble back towards the spot she was sitting on.

Deinmaar tilts his head, about to speak once more before a whisper reaches his ears, "So… Lo… Mon…"

The Atmoran's eyes snap wide open, and his head turns to stare up the stairs and at Leonidas' distant back.

Why did Dinok think that Leonidas was Konahriik's teacher…?

Gulping, Deinmaar shakes his head and stands up. Giving Dinok one last warm but sad gaze as she sits down, he slowly closes the rusted doors and locks them.

And as he does so, he hears one last whisper.

"Bor… Mah…"

The door locks, leaving Deinmaar with a great deal of questions.

His shoulders sag, but he soon turns and starts going back up the stairs, his thoughts swirling as he uselessly tried to find answers that were far out of his reach.

He should have been with them. He should have never let that betrayal of his pin him down. He should have fought with Konahriik, even if he lost his life.

His steps carry him out of the church that led to Dinok's prison, and Leonidas was standing outside right past the open doors.

The robed man hums and tilts his head towards the Atmoran, "So many questions, still no answers, huh?" He muses, and Deinmaar nods as he puts his helmet back on.

Deinmaar opens his mouth, but stops himself from speaking. He wanted to ask Leonidas about this Solomon, for even he knew little about this mysterious man.

He only knew that the Elders, even the likes of Lord Morokei, were outright terrified of this individual that had taught Konahriik when she was a child, before they met.

Dinok viewed him as her father figure and cherished him deeply, but never really went in depths about their past.

Konahriik was the same. Her smile always mysterious when asked about him, but she viewed the man like an older brother that she deeply missed.

A sudden snort from Leonidas draws Deinmaar's attention, who tilts his head in confusion, "What is it, brother?" He questions as the snort turns into a faint chuckle.

"Oh, nothing… Just that…" Leonidas turns as he chuckles, and nods his head towards the church behind them, "I'm an Undead, and I just keep walking in and out of a place of worship of a Divine that very much hates said creatures."

At that point Leonidas cackles, and Deinmaar could only shake his head in amusement… While trying not to laugh himself. He didn't wish to offend Lord Arkay, after all.

"And the fucker even blessed me!" Leonidas was making it hard, though. Very, very hard.

His new, closest friend had a couple of screw loose… And that, strangely enough, was what made him such a strangely charismatic individual.

Shaking his head, the Undead reached over to pat Deinmaar's arm before he started walking, "Come on, let's go pay the Jarl a visit. Gotta tell him about the treasury… And about Riverwood and Falkreath."

Deinmaar nods and falls into steps with Leonidas, knowing that was the very reason he had sent away so to distract themselves. He still felt guilty for the recent events.

No words of comfort could come to his mind, so Deinmaar just looked around.

The city was clearly still rebuilding from the recent attack, with hundreds of people and workers moving through the streets and moving gear and materials with smiles on their faces.

None complained. They all worked together, young assisting the old, bringing the workers food and water, and sometimes even forcing them to take a break.

Remnants of the attack were visible still, though. Like areas scorched with the flame breath of a Dragon, or where their huge forms crash-landed. A lot of decayed carcasses of huge Dragons were also still being taken apart and placed on large carts, then moved away.

...Was this how the end of the war used to look like? No, perhaps it was much, much worse. There wouldn't have been so many buildings left standing, especially since Dragon Sages and Great Sages had taken part in the battle.

The fact that Skyrim was still mostly intact spoke of how well they had managed to contain the damage, or how fast they managed to slay the powerful Dragons.

A large portion of the continent had only been shattered and thrown into the sea due to infighting caused by Miraak's betrayal.

Deinmaar frowned lightly at the thought of that particular Dragon Priest, but soon shook away those thoughts as he spoke, "Are you familiar with the Jarl of this Hold, brother?"

Leonidas perks up with a hum, then nods, "Kinda." He answers, shaking his gauntlet-clad hand in a so-so gesture, "I guess he respects me a lot due to handling the Krosis situation from a while back."

Right, Krosis had attacked from that mountain in the distance, didn't he?

"And the Dragon issues too, I guess." Deinmaar couldn't help but smile at that.

He had known many who would abuse this 'respect' for gains, and push to gain more, searching the boundaries of that 'respect' so that they could just request more and more.

But Leonidas didn't do such a thing. He didn't even seem to care. As long as the people were safe and sound, he was satisfied.

It was then that their steps brought them to a large square at the bottom of a long staircase. On the other side of the square was a tall imposing building that instantly earned Deinmaar's full attention.

It was very old. Ancient, even. Made out of wood from a giant upturned boat.

"That's the boat of the five-hundred Companions." Leonidas states softly from beside him, "They were Atmorans. Your people."

Deinmaar breathes in. It was a slow, shaky breath. He had always wondered about them. Always thought about his home.

But then, his mind always returned to the one he longs for, and forever will.

Home was wherever She was.

"You told me that they came to Skyrim long before the Dragons ruled Mundus." Leonidas nods at Deinmaar's questions.

"Probably hundreds of years before them. Way before recorded history, in fact." The Undead muses softly, "It is believed that the many Races that walk Tamriel are descendants of the Atmorans, in fact. Like the Nords."

Deinmaar muses softly at that. His eyes were a dark red, and his hair were black… He didn't really have the blonde hair and blue eyes of the Nords, but he didn't really know how the rest of his people looked like.

"What about my homeland?"

Leonidas sighs softly, "It's a frozen landscape now. The glacial winds from it are felt all across the north of Skyrim too." Crossing his arms, the Undead hums softly, "I thought the Dragon Cult had some form of presence there too?"

Deinmaar tilts his head at that. "I don't know. I never really dealt with that kind of stuff." Leonidas chuckles at that.

"You preferred punching people in the face, didn't ya?"

"Politics is hard. Punching assholes and throwing them in prison was easy. And fun."

They share a laugh at that before they resumed their walk, ascending the steps to the mighty castle of Dragonsreach currently undergoing repairs.

The workers carrying materials up to the castle walked around them, some even whispering and pointing towards Leonidas, telling Deinmaar that the mage was quite well known and respected in the city.

Then one of the guards standing by the destroyed doors raised their voice, "Halt! State your business-!" Alas, his words were halted when the other guard slapped the one talking over the head.

"You idiot! Can't you recognize Sir Leonidas!?" The much older guard admonishes, before turning back to the chuckling Leonidas and giving a nod, "It is a pleasure to see you again, Sir. The Jarl is inside."

Leonidas nods and resumes walking, "Don't be too hard on the guy. I've been away for a while, after all." He states, patting the admonished guard on the shoulder as they walked past and entered the large hall undergoing repairs.

Then Leonidas pauses at the sight of a Dragon carcass being taken apart at the top of the stairs. "Did a Dragon really fucking dive bomb the goddamn castle…?"

Deinmaar tilts his head, "They used to do it often." Leonidas' head snaps towards him, and the massive Atmoran shrugs, "Don't ask me why."

They always did that when they got badly hurt while flying, but sometimes they also did that out of nowhere.

Deinmaar couldn't guess the reason behind that action.

He does hear Leonidas mutter something about 'Dragons being crash-outs' or something along those lines, but he decided to ignore it.

Soon after, they reached the top of the stairs, where a mostly damaged and massive hall lay, a throne resting on the other end of it.

None of the workers though currently walked around the hall, leaving it occupied by what Deinmaar initially believes are the Nobles and the Lord of Whiterun.

One such Nord swiftly takes notice of their approach and perks up, eyes widening at the sight of Leonidas, "Leonidas!" The tall Nord calls out, a smile stretching across his bearded face.

The Undead raises a hand in greeting, "Jarl Balgruuf. I am glad to see you alive and well." His head then turns to regard the other people sat at round table with the Jarl, "I can't say the same for all of the other Jarls though, it seems…"

The now identified Jarl Balgruuf sighs deeply, looking as if he had aged decades in the span of seconds, "We lost two Jarls in the attack. The Jarl of Winterhold, and the Jarl of Falkreath."

Leonidas sighs, "Guess the Gods really wanted it gone, huh…?" He muses aloud, confusing the present Jarls… Before he speaks up once more. "Riverwood and Falkreath are gone."

The hall fell quiet. It was a cold quiet, one filled with horror, shock and fear.

Jarl Balgruuf leans back into his seat and sighs deeply, "I see…"

Leonidas visibly clenches his hands into tight fists, "My apologies. It was my fault." He lowers his head, "I let the Dragon that caused that destruction escape from me."

The Jarl of Whiterun stared at the masked Undead for a few quiet seconds, then asked; "Is it still out there?"

Leonidas answered instantly. "No."

"...Did it suffer?"

"Very much so."

The Jarls smiled. Those weren't pleased smiles, but the smiles of someone who had achieved their revenge. The smiles of someone who heard that their most hated foe had fallen in a most pathetic way.

And Deinmaar was reminded of the scene he walked in on.

Of that valley drenched in blood, and covered in torn flesh and bones all over. He couldn't even come close to thinking about the horrors Leonidas inflicted upon Vulthuryol.

Breathing in, the Undead steps forward, "I have kept much hidden from you, but now that all of the Jarls stand together, I believe it is time I share some things."

Jarl Balgruuf instantly leaned forward, his gaze growing focused and serious, "Any advice you can give will be treasured, my friend."

Leonidas nods, before speaking, "There are five more Dragon Priests in Skyrim, aside from those that we have already felled."

"First was Krosis, who fell against me and the Dragonborn. Then Rahgot, who attacked Riften and was felled by the Dragonborn in turn."

"And just yesterday, I felled another. Hevnoraak, who had a temple in the mountains between Falkreath and Markarth."

Deinmaar saw a man relax at those words, but Leonidas swiftly turned towards them, "Do not be relaxed, Jarl of Markarth. One of the mightiest Dragon Priests, Otar the Mad, has his temple exactly on the other side of the mountains north of your Hold."

And soon the Jarl of Markarth looked about to faint.

A youthful woman speaks up next, leaning forward on the table, "Are there any close to Solitude?"

Leonidas nods, "Two, to be exact." The woman instantly pales, "The Dragon Priest Vokun is the closest, buried in the High Gate Ruins. The other one is Volsung, buried in Volskygge."

"Then there is Morokei, buried within the ancient capital of the Dragon Kingdom, Bromjunaar, now known as Labyrinthian."

A tense quiet filled the air… Before Jarl Balgruuf breaks it, "And the last one…?" He questions.

Leonidas stares at him.

The Jarl pales profusely, "My friend…"

"Dinok, the mightiest of them all… Is sealed right beneath Whiterun."

The Jarls looked faint, with the Jarl of Whiterun most of all.

"You are not telling us this to terrify us." One of the Jarls spoke. Deinmaar turned to a man in a dark cloak, missing an arm.

"I am not, Jarl Ulfric." Leonidas answers with a nod. "I have a few things to handle in the coming days, but once I am done… Me, my friend here and the Dragonborn will go and deal with two of the Dragon Priests, and some of the other threats to Skyrim and her people."

"By the time we are done, only the Dragons and their lackeys will remain as our enemies."

Deinmaar smiles beneath his helmet. He liked this confidence and assurance his brother exuded.

He, of course, already knew of these threats Leonidas spoke off. The Undead told him about them not too long ago.

The resurrection of a powerful woman called Potema.

The vampires in a castle far into the waters.

And some of the Dragon Priests, of course.

The Jarl of Whiterun though had a complicated expression on his face, "Must you do everything?" That question was filled with worry. Worry for the man before him, and not worry for being unable to bask in that glory of those accomplishment.

"He isn't alone." Deinmaar speaks before he could realize, his voice loud and mighty, making all of the Jarls sit straight in his presence.

Jarl Balgruuf blinks, "You are…?"

The massive Atmoran bows his head in greeting, "I am known as Deinmaar, the former Dragon Priest of Justice."

Eyes widen as Leonidas chuckles and pats the Atmoran's arm, "He is one of the reasons the war was won back then. You can trust him, for I trust him with my life."

Those words meant more to Deinmaar than anyone within the hall could realize, with only Jarl Balgruuf visibly relaxing after hearing them.

"If you trust the man, then I do too. Whiterun welcomes you, Deinmaar." The Atmoran bows his head in thanks once more. The man felt more like a King than a Jarl, that he had to admit.

Clapping his hands loudly, Leonidas stood tall, "Could someone give me a map? I want to mark some areas for you all, and give you the area of a large treasury you can divide so to gain more funds."

Deinmaar barely held back a snort when the Jarls rushed to have someone bring Leonidas a map.

Soon, Leonidas completed the task he had wanted to do, then they left the Jarls to their tense meeting.

"They were very tense." Deinmaar muses as they walked down the steps outside of the grand castle, "Why did you not tell them about Alduin's defeat against us?"

Leonidas' steps never slow down as he walks, and he remains quiet, his gaze seemingly focused towards the imposing mountain that is High Hrothgar.

"It would have given them hope." The Undead finally answers after a while.

The Atmoran tilts his head, "And that is bad?"

"When it comes to Alduin? Yes." His friend answers, voice somber. "It'll give them hope that they may be able to stand against him as we did. That they may prevail like we did."

"But we got lucky, for we faced a weakened Alduin."

"While they will face an Alduin that will feast upon anyone and anything to regain his lost might."

Deinmaar, unfortunately, couldn't help but agree.

After all, he was told about the Prophecy. A Prophecy that never said anything about victory.

Just that everything rests upon the shoulders of the Dragonborn.

And that Leonidas hated it. Deeply.

"So, what do we do now?" The Atmoran asks, "Shall we prepare for… Saarthal, was it?"

It was time his brother was able to sleep and rest, after all.

But surprisingly, Leonidas shakes his head at his question. "Not yet. There is something we must do first."

"What is it?"

The Undead breathes in, then slowly comes to a stop.

"We are going to wake Kara up."

Deinmaar freezes.

For he knows that doing so…

Will cause the currently strongest Dragon upon Nirn to come for them.

And he was not going to be happy.

A.N. Had to deal with some taxes bullshit, and putting down plans to buy a house, and other things, which slowed down the release of this chapter.

Shoulda been out days ago, but alas… Apologies, me wonderful readers!

Either way, hope y'all enjoy this interlude.

Serana is drawing closer and closer!

Also… What do y'all think I've put in Saarthal?

The one who guesses correctly shall receive a ferocious headpat!

Now, I'ma go play Oblivion.

Toodles!