SamuraiCheem

Asking for your opinion!

So, i've asked the opinion of those on the server i am in, but i didn't get much feedback honestly, so i'll be asking you all, since it pertains to Patreon stuff.

Would you all like if i double the amount of chapters available on Patreon?

Meaning that from 5 chapters we go to 10. But the price will also go to 10, since i basically sell my chapters for 1$ - or whatever currency is yours - which is basically a minuscule amount compared to what many others ask for.

I'd rather satisfy everyone with this possible change - it is not set in stone and your opinions are what will make or break it - so i'd rather not cause some dissatisfaction.

I could keep the chapters separated in tiers, like people just wanting to read five chapters ahead subscribe to the 5$ Tier, and those who want the 10 chapters ahead subscribe to the 10$ one, with those additional chapters having a one month timer on them that, once it runs out, will make those chapters in the 10$ Tier available for those below. P. S. I actually do not know if this will work, so do not take this seriously, i'll have to check and experiment later.

So yeah, what would you all think? Would you want the chapters divided between 5 and 10, or have all 10 available in a single Tier?

Your opinions and advice are greatly valued, as your satisfaction is my goal! So do let me know!

And thank you for wasting your time reading this!

Toodles!

I, Draugr Chapter 50

I nearly crumbled when I felt Hildr's arms wrap around me.

I felt it.

I could feel it.

I could feel her arms around me. I could smell her perfume. I could feel her warmth. Her softness.

I could feel her in my arms, and feels hers hug me tightly, hands trembling, lips pressed against mine as tears flowed down her cheeks.

My arms wrap around her smaller frame tightly, and I hold her like my life depends on it, craving every last minute thing my nerves register.

Scent, taste, touch- All of it and more.

Hildr breaks the kiss overflowing with so much feelings after a few seconds and sniffles softly, hiding her whimper by pushing her face into the crook of my neck.

"Thank you." I whisper in her ear, a smile on my lips that I can actually feel.

As Hildr's hug grows tighter, I flick my gaze up towards Aurelia, still bashful and covering her face due to my current nudity.

She tries and fails to avoid my gaze, my eyes narrowing and my smile growing… Well, very fucking hungry.

"Oh boy…" Hildr notices my gazes and releases me, "You might wanna run, girl!"

Aurelia squeaks, face as red as a tomato, but it was too late. My hand grip her lovely hips, her eyes blow wide open as I pull her close, and then she all but melts when I kiss her, nearly crumbling to her knees.

And I don't kiss her normally, no. I've been hungry for some of her for a long, long fucking time.

So I went in deep. Hungry. Making her understand just how much I yearn for her, and how much passion and love I have for her.

One of her trembling hands comes to rest on the back of my head, her tongue trying and failing to keep up with mine as she quivers and melts in my hands.

By the time I break the kiss, I left the very innocent but breathtaking woman with a dreamy and lost look in her eyes.

I turn to Hildr, and raise an eyebrow when I take notice that she was enjoying the show, her gaze quite heated. "What? I swing both ways." Fair enough.

...Now I kinda want to see her and Aurelia make-out.

Being able to be horny again is very, very dangerous. Even if this is my Dream.

I release the still stunned Aurelia and will some pants to appear on me so to be less nude, my gaze softening and my shoulders sagging. "Did you really ask Vaermina to hop into my Dreams?"

Hildr shrugs, "There was nothing either of us really wanted, so why not." Her lone eye then looks me up and down very slowly, "Definitely worth it. Right, 'Relia?"

"Uuhh…" That was the intelligent noise the still flushed lady lets out, earning a snort from me and the redhead.

Shaking her head out of pure amusement, Hildr moves and throws her arms around me, planting her lips against my cheek as she hums happily, "I'm so fucking happy you are getting some proper rest…"

I chuckle and lift her up with one arm, using the other to pull the stiff Aurelia close, "Yeah… I know this is a Dream, but… It is nice to feel things again, even if it'll be for just a moment."

It's… Hard to get used to feeling so many things once more. Touch, scent, flavor… It is all so overpowering. Well, lust too, which is currently like a blazing inferno because how can I not want to plow these two beauties silly?

"What are you thinking about?" Hildr asks, making sure to press close against me. It is the little gestures that she does that show me her love.

The way she makes sure I can breathe in her scent, feel her touch, feel her warmth… She is dangerously becoming very, very addictive. And I love it.

"Just… About the events in Saarthal." I sigh out, bringing both of the ladies to the end of the bridge on the water.

We sat down, feet dipping in the cool water, fishes that shouldn't be in a lake swimming below us just because I want them there.

And as we sat them there, I told them about my experience with Ahzidal, our fight, what I gleamed from it, and I mostly kept out the majority of my deal with Mehrunes Dagon so to not embarrass the fucker too much.

In turn, they told me about theirs. About how they fought the Five-Hundred Atmoran Companions, about how Hildr used a simple Spell so to circumvent the insanity-inducing hunger of her transformed state, and about how the Atmorans clung to life through sheer Will alone.

And the aftermath of the battle between Deinmaar and Ysgramor. Apparently the earthquakes I kept feeling and the ones who split the city in half were those two.

My buddy physical might is downright insane…

"It all felt… Scripted." Aurelia states quietly, leaning against my left shoulder and holding my left hand in both of hers, her dreamy gaze still there, "We were all sent where we'd shine best. Like… We had a purpose. Something to do."

Hildr nods, "We helped the Companions move on through a worthy battle."

"Deinmaar gave Ysgramor a battle that should go down in history."

"And you…"

I hum softly, leaning back with my hands, staring up at the sky. With a thought, orange light washed down on us as morning became afternoon.

The forest parted, and the setting sun became visible. All with a thought from me.

"I wonder if he played us. Played me." What would Sheogorath say? "One cannot plan around an insane fool, I guess."

Ahzidal, you twisted fuck… Any outcome would have satisfied you, huh?

Had he won, he would have unleashed Oblivion to erase the Mer Races from existence.

Had he lost, he'd still have granted his closest people a worthy death, and crippled those he hated for entire Eras.

Or was none of this planned? Was it coincidence?

Yet it all felt scripted. Fast. Meant to happen faster than anyone could realize what was truly going on and… Try to change things.

Did you not want someone to try and talk you out of those crazy plans of yours, Ahzidal?

Did you just yearn for an ignoble death as the best outcome?

I know that the 'script' we were sticking to derailed due to Ysgramor, and his decision to 'battle' Ahzidal at the very end, so that they both could enter Sovngarde together.

I sigh and slump my shoulders.

What a masterful play. Truly what you'd expect from an insane man who can change his mind within seconds.

Was it all planned? All a coincidence? I can't fucking tell. At all.

Either way, the best possible outcome out of that ordeal was achieved in just half an hour, all because – by chance, apparently – we were all placed where we'd shine best from the very start.

It was like someone challenging me at chess, and giving me the side that is three moves away from getting a perfect checkmate no matter how I move the pieces.

We were put on the spot, forced to defend ourselves or fight back in order to destroy the chains, and not given any time to think...

Doesn't matter. We got the Eye and fixed the crippling effect its seal caused, so there's that.

"What do we do now?" Aurelia asks, her half-lidded eyes staring at my face like a love-struck teenager, making the raging fire in my chest just burn so much hotter.

"Now? Now we just… Lean back, and relax." I chuckle out, causing both ladies to yelp as I let my back fall on the wooden bridge, bringing them down with me. "My head is clear now. Clear of that panic, that dark fog, and not tired."

"And I… I've realized I can't do everything for Skyrim. We can't do everything for Skyrim."

Leaning on my chest, Hildr looks up with her lone eye, a soft smile on her face, "What do you mean?"

I run my hand through her hair as I answer, "We can handle the bigger, more powerful threats like Dragon Sages and Great Sages, or the more powerful Dragon Priests… But we shouldn't handle every single battle."

"Skyrim needs to fight too. They are warriors, and they'll welcome this challenge with open arms and smiles on their faces… So we can't treat them like babies and do everything for them to protect them, lest we just offend them."

"I think that's why Kara hasn't gone off to erase each Dragon Priest off the face of Nirn with Lah… Because she knows this. She'll only act when she needs to act. When a threat equal or close to her level of strength presents itself."

And I think she never brought this up with me because she knows that with my tired mind, I'd have likely fought back against such a thing.

"But… Will it really be alright?" Aurelia softly asks, leaning on the other side of my chest and joining Hildr in looking up at me, making for a most alluring and unforgettable sight. "I don't want to say that they are weak… But…"

I smile and pat her head in comfort, making her sigh in such an adorable way as she leans into my touch. "They are weak now, but now that the Eye is free…"

"They'll grow stronger, and stronger and stronger again… Until even Dragon Sages will struggle against them."

These are people who, for countless generations, lived in the land where the Eye of Magnus resided. I dare not speculate, but there must be a form of blessing that should impart them.

They'll become titans wielding pure physical might. They'll return to the monsters that managed to bring down the Dragons of the past through pure hate.

If they can do it once, I have faith that they can do it once more.

"Plus… The final passage of the prophecy is underway. Any hot-blooded bastard out there will soon start pouring into Skyrim so to become part of History."

The Empire will help despite needing time to recover, and I am sure the Thalmor will either plot or try to stir shit in their favor… Until I decide to pay their country a visit and leave it a wasteland so to gobble up on a few tens of thousands of Souls and massive increase my strength once more.

My thoughts are interrupted by a gentle pinch on my side, making me blink and give Hildr my full attention as she mounts me and sits on my chest, "We should be relaxing. Forget about the world, and the prophecy."

"Just focus on us."

I smile, and one of my hand gently grips her lovely hips.

Her lone sparkling green eye overflows with adoration and so much love, her smile growing as she sees my hesitation. "We don't know when we'll get another chance like this, so…"

One of her fingers slowly trails down my bare chest, leaving behind a lingering warmth that is overwhelming for my touch-starved nerves.

"...Let's make sure that you'll have something unforgettable to keep you motivated, yeah?" Her purr is like pure electricity flowing through my veins, making goosebumps rise all over my skin.

Her lips part like a wolf baring its teeth, sharp canines visible as she licks her lips with visible hunger within her eyes.

Until a palm mushes against her face, "H-Hildr! S-Such things must be done after marriage so to p-procreate and-and-and-!" Aurelia's panicked, adorable rambling come to an end when Hildr cups her face and looks into her eyes.

And then kisses her.

I blink, whistle, and lean back as Hildr makes out with Aurelia with a passion that is just… Very, very hot.

And Aurelia? She melts against Hildr too, and is soon left a panting and whimpering, dazed mess by the time the tongue-filled kiss is broken.

Licking her lips, Hildr hums softly, "Yeah… Like hell I'm letting you two go." She states, before yelping when I flip us around, pinning her back on the wooden planks of the bridge.

Her confident gaze falters, and she soon flushes shyly.

And with my eyes filled with both a bashful and shy Hildr and Aurelia…

Yeah, like hell I could hold back.

~~XXX~~

"You're leaving?" Kara asks, blinking in surprise at the towering Atmoran that had just lifted a large bag over his armored shoulders.

Deinmaar nods, light smile on his face, "Just for a bit. There is something I wish to check, and that I've put back for far too long." He states, his gaze tranquil and focused, no longer lost and depressed like it used to be.

Kara sags her shoulders, gentle smile on her face as she stares up at the giant, "When can I expect you back, then?"

"Before brother wakes up, hopefully." Deinmaar muses softly, gazing towards the right wing of the College, where Leonidas' sleeping form had been securely placed until he had his proper, much deserved rest. "If not, I should still be back before he decides to handle those Vampires he spoke off."

Kara nods, then jabs a thumb behind her, "Want my hubby to give you a quick lift?" She offers, drawing the attention of the royal blue Dragon intently studying the colossal orb floating above the College.

"I'll be alright. A good walk will do me good." Deinmaar chuckles, and Kara resists the cheeky desire to point out that he has to walk, for there are no horses that can hold his weight and size.

With a hum, the curly haired woman twirls her hand, conjuring a slip of paper with a glowing golden Original Rune on it, "Here. Use this in case some emergency happens that you can't handle by yourself. Me and Lah will come running the moment you activate it."

Deinmaar takes the slip of paper with a grateful smile and stores it within the chestplate of his dragon-bone armor before straightening himself, "I'll leave everything in your good hands, then."

"I tend to fuck shit up a lot, so… Don't trust me to handle things properly." Kara proudly reveals, not noticing the way Lah nods profusely behind her.

Deinmaar decides not to point that out and just sighs with an amused smile on his face, "Just… Take care."

Kara snorts and watches the giant depart with a smile on her face, and watches him go until his form disappears past the broken bridges leading to the College. "Man, it's nice to see him like that. And all it took was getting his shit kicked in by fucking Ysgramor himself. Boys, I swear..."

Lah chuckles softly as he lumbers behind the minute woman, "That is the Deinmaar I know off. I am glad to see him back too."

Kara hums, then turns to stare at the empty courtyard. Despite the giant artifact hanging above the College, no student or teacher hung around to study it.

Because the crippling effects caused by its seal were already starting to lift… And now, each teacher and student were achieving breakthrough after breakthrough in things that had originally stumped them for months, years or even decades.

Kara wasn't affected by the crippling effect of the seal, but she was awake to see it slowly take effect over countless generations of Mages since the First Era.

So she had already figured out that the crippling effect only started effecting each new generation. She also had a theory that the effect was stronger towards long-lived Mer Races due to how slowly they reproduce, but she brushed it aside after realizing that it was likely accurate.

"The recovery won't happen through each new child being born. It works differently from how the crippling effect took place." Lah nods, returning his gaze to the glowing Artifact above.

"The closer they are to this Artifact, the faster they recover. Even my own theory was wrong." Lah had suspected that the recovery would slowly take place over the matter of months, maybe a year or few…

But each student and teacher beneath the Eye had started improving at a terrifying pace. Even Kara herself found that her mind was… Sharper, in terms of understanding the deeper mysteries of Magicka.

And she wasn't lacking in that department, as she knows very well she is among one of the greatest magical minds ever born.

"Moving the College is starting to sound more enticing…" Kara muses softly, chewing on her lower lip in thought.

Bringing the College and the Eye closer to Whiterun would assist the whole of Skyrim in recovering much, much faster.

She'd be able to recruit more Mages with greater ease, and build groups of Healers and Battle Mages faster than she had originally thought.

She and Lah couldn't handle every threat to Skyrim lest they earn the ire of the people, so she could at least offer them teachings that they could master at a rapid pace with the help of the Eye.

"I believe it is best we further study the Eye for a moment." Lah offers softly, "I'd rather not risk this boost to intelligence bringing some form of insanity as a side-effects."

Kara flinches lightly and clicks her tongue. Yeah, she'd have to make sure the students and teachers remembered to eat, sleep and take breaks lest they die over their now much easier studies.

She'll probably have to move the Eye away after a few hours each day, lest its effects become dangerously addictive.

"Yeah, we best be careful. Same with the book." Kara drawls out, grasping the book with a patchwork cover attached to her side through magic.

The Ohgma Infinium, which she and Lah had retrieved swiftly after their trip to the frozen Atmora. It was easy to break the ancient box it was sealed into with their magical might and cunning, plus they hadn't encountered the lunatic Leonidas had told her would likely be there.

The was a camp there, right by the ancient box holding the book, but whoever was using it had left not too long before their visit, likely to gather supplies.

"I can feel Tentacle Freak's gaze on me each time I hold the damn thing." Kara scoffs, so attuned with the planes of Oblivion and Nirn and with Divine beings that she could tell when one had its gaze on her.

"It is likely rigged." Lah offers, giving the book a spare glance before focusing fully on the giant Eye floating above. "Perhaps what Leonidas theorized might be true."

Kara nods in agreement, "Yeah… I'd rather not risk this book going blank once I read it once. I can wait until I break whatever bindings are placed on this thing before reading it." Twirling the book, she turns a mischievous grin towards her lover, "Not like it's the first time we stole shit from a God, am I right?"

Lah chuckles deeply, "Good old times." Their moment was broken by the sound of frantic footsteps approaching.

A panic-stricken Savos Aren rushes out of the open doors of the main building of the College, making Kara raise a curious brow, "What has got your panties in a twist, kid?"

Panting and gasping from breath, the paled Dunmer gulps loudly, "The seal…" He rasps out, eyes glowing with horror, "The seal in Labyrinthian has been broken…"

Kara narrows her gaze, "The Dragon Priest there is called Morokei?" She asks, mainly towards her relaxed and calm lover.

Lah nods, "Indeed. A fearsome but cunning Mage. Were it not for Deinmaar's lover, he'd have been the one to inherit the name Konahriik."

Slowly, Lah chuckles, golden eyes shining with mirth, "How predictable of him… To start moving the moment the beast falls into slumbers."

Savos Aren and Kara furrow their brows at the Dragon's words, before they realize the deeper meaning of them, "You mean… He started acting because Leo is sleeping?"

"Indeed." Lah confirms, baring his jaws towards his wife, "It means that even with that powerful artifact within his hands… Morokei still does not foresee a perfect victory if he and Leonidas were to come to blows."

Kara's eyebrows shot up at her husband's words, for they were enormous praise.

After all, Morokei was a monster in the same league as her, or around that level. He was just… Far more dangerous due to his cunning mind.

He was the man that, even after all the betrayals and everything Konahriik and Deinmaar did to make sure the Resistance had a near one-sided victory, still managed to nearly turn the Dragon War around.

He made sure the Resistance paid a bloody price for that victory. One that Kara theorizes the world still hasn't recovered from.

But how does he not foresee a victory against Leonidas?

Is he afraid that the idiot will just walk through all of his plans and traps and whatnot without problem…?

"Slumbering beasts awaken when the unknown variable is momentarily out of action…" Lah muses softly, golden eyes glinting sharply, "It appears Skyrim must weather one last storm before they may enjoy a momentary quiet."

Recovering from his horror and worry, Savos Aren gulps heavily and straightens himself, "But… How does Morokei know that Leonidas is unable to take action?"

Kara furrows her own eyebrows at that. Her senses spread, but she doesn't find any form of Magic or scrying runes set up in either the College or the whole of Winterhold.

Lah chuckles, "The Masks, obviously." Kara's eyes blow wide open, and she acts instantly, disappearing from her spot and appearing within the room Leonidas and his two paramours were sleeping.

Two ancient masks fly into her hands the moment she appears, a glowering glare in her eyes as her Magicka pours in. "Oh, you twisted bastard…" Scrying Runes, hidden deep within the intricate patchwork that are the Draconic Enchantments placed upon these artifacts.

Morokei had been spying on them this whole time.

Kara scoffs, a bad taste in her mouth as she erases the Runes with a flicker of her Magicka. A rather useless action now that the enemy knew all of their plans.

Luckily, there isn't much he can do with it, for he knows very well that if he dares covet Auriel's Bow he'll enrage Lah, something no sane individual would dare.

The rest of the plans they discussed were vague, with Leonidas not sharing a direct location for any of the things he spoke off.

Kara chews on one of her nails in thought, glowering frown on her pretty face. Would there be something that Morokei would covet within among the things Leonidas mentioned?

Kara swiftly focused on just one thing. One very powerful tool that could prove disastrous.

An Elder Scroll.

"Cunning bastard…" Kara huffs out, returning the cleansed Masks to their rightful place with a wave of her hand. She'd have to check Deinmaar's once he returns too.

Her gaze trails towards the robed figure sleeping motionless on the large bed, flanked by his lover.

A gentle smile spreads across her face at the sight.

She'll let Morokei scheme and plot all he wants, for she knows the truth that the Dragon Priest likely will refuse to accept.

He lost the moment he needed Leonidas to become unavailable so to start acting.

~~XXX~~

Skyrim was changing. Some Mages deeply attuned to Magicka could feel it, others just had a keen sense that told them something was different.

The dried remnants of the Gildergreen within Whiterun started blooming by themselves, recovering at a rapid pace without any assistance being given.

The air felt more fresh. Invigorating. Crops started blooming as if assistance by Magic itself.

Sick people suddenly rose full of energy, and the elderly stood and walked around as if back to their youth.

Warriors pushed themselves beyond their breaking limits and kept going, finding themselves growing stronger at an insane pace.

Farengar found his studies becoming easier. His mind and the countless problems filling it was slowly being untangled, allowing him to do his duties far better than before, something he relished in.

And within the monastery atop High Hrothgar, several elders raised their heads towards the sky above. They could feel it, and hear it.

A storm was coming. One that could make or break Skyrim. One that could cripple its war preparations… Or grant them what they needed to truly stand and protect themselves.

The Greybeards could feel it. The mourning of the Sky. The sadness it radiated.

Arngeir sighs deeply as he stands, the cold winds of the mountain brushing past his elderly face as he gazes into the distance.

He knows what this all means, and it saddens him greatly.

A great master of the Thu'um will soon be unleashed upon Skyrim.

His calm gaze turns skyward for but a moment… Before he smiles and brushes the snow off his dark robes.

Quietly and slowly, a thin old man started the grueling descent down High Hrothgar to fulfill a much needed purpose.

Meanwhile, a sealed evil stirred deep within an ancient, forgotten crypt in the mountains north-west of Skyrim.

The clicking of a staff is the only noise that fills the ancient hall of a throne room ravaged by battle and time, with the once mighty throne turned replaced by sarcophagus wrapped in thick, rumbling chains.

"Even a rabid dog has its uses…" A raspy voice speaks up, the wielder of the glowing ethereal staff that drew in Magicka from the surroundings taking slow steps towards the coffin. "Sickness is always a weapon one can use..."

Behind the figure and hidden within the darkness lay other figures, all clad in ancient robes and dragonscale armor.

All wearing Masks.

Vokun and Volsung remained back, bowed deeply on one knee, heads lowered as Morokei advances towards the sealed, chained sarcophagus.

"To remove a rival." A flick of the staff, and one chain wrapped around the upright prison shattered.

"To cause havoc during war." Another chain shatters with a tap of the staff.

"To waste enemy resources." A low exhale, and the final chain shatters, clattering heavily on the ground.

Morokei's Mask glows brightly, warding off the darkness as the sarcophagus slowly creaks open.

"Or all of the above. At the same time."

The sarcophagus bursts open, a figure cloaked in baleful green flames stomping out of it with a wrath and madness that would make the Mad Star proud.

Chains rattle and stop the figure, a skull wrapped in bright green flames that released the howls of demented Souls stopping just before Morokei's Mask, with the Dragon Priest not even flinching.

The giant skeleton of Otar the Mad glowers down at his former master, a lone chain wrapped around his skull and between his open jaws.

"A rabid dog has its uses." Morokei repeats, reaching up to pat the trembling skull of the mad giant, "I hope your wrath has become fine fuel for your Voice, Otar the Sky-Breaker."

Baleful green flames swell, and the bound giant pulls at his chains as he roars.

The entire mountain chain quivers. The earth rumbles and the Heavens quake as clouds start to gather and spin.

Chuckling, Morokei undoes the chains and steps aside, releasing the mad dog under his control as Vokun and Volsung quietly quiver beneath the immense pressure released by the giant.

"Now, we just need one last piece…" The cunning strategist muses as he slowly starts to walk away, "Vokun, Volsung… Make yourselves useful, and assist Otar until I come back."

The roar was felt across the entirety of Skyrim, and all the way to the lands of the Empire.

In the wilderness of Skyrim, in a small camp set along the road, a Breton man clad in Ebony Armor stops the sharpening of his blade to raise his head towards the sky.

A Dunmer woman disembarking from a ship in Windhelm's port pauses for but a moment before her gaze regains focus.

And beneath Whiterun, a black skull tilts lightly, their grip over the Ebony Blade growing tighter until cracks cover the Daedric Artifact.

Paarthurnax's eyes slowly close as he witnesses everything, a deep sigh leaving his jaws as he slumps, "Why must we wage war? Why must we battle? Why must blood be spilled?"

Once more Dragons and Man would battle. Once more the Thu'um must be used as a weapon of war.

Turning, the ancient Dragons gives his full attention towards an ancient wound left in time. Formed when Alduin was sealed away with the usage of an Elder Scroll, this Time Wound could be used by some to witness that final battle before the World Eater was sealed away.

But for Dragons, being deeply attuned with Time itself as they its children, they could use such Wounds to peer into the River of Time and gaze backward.

It was why Paarthurnax had made this spot his home, for there was no better place to contemplate his failure than the exact spot where he could witness them ad infinitum.

And so, like he has done tens of thousands of time, Paarthurnax dives backward in Time to witness the very moment he became aware of his purpose.

The very moment he knew that he must aid the mortal Races, and not stand beside his brother.

The landscape changes within moments, and like always, Paarthurnax finds himself standing before the shoulders of his past self, but a ghostly spectator of events that cannot be changed.

"You are leaving." Paarthurnax turns, his gaze falling on the towering form of the World Eater sitting before a small hill. Those glowing red eyes, once filled with arrogance… Were now filled with sadness. Disappointment.

Emotions Paarthurnax had not known Alduin could feel. But what did he know? Had he ever tried to talk to his brother? Had he ever tried being a brother, instead of a soldier? A warrior that does one's bidding?

No… Paarthurnax never did. One of his many, many regrets.

His gaze, slowly, turns to the cloaked figure standing atop the hill, the source of Alduin's sadness. The only mortal who could claim to be Alduin's friend.

The billowing darkness of that long cloak swells and dances beneath the gentle light of the setting sun, the face beneath hidden by a simple, innocuous Wooden Mask. "I am. I've finished what I came here to accomplish, and overstayed my welcome too."

The man's voice was ethereal. A thousand voices in one. Young and old. Male and female. It was like talking with a million beings at the same time, all housed within the same vessel.

Solomon turns to stare at the setting sun, "War will come, Alduin." The Lord of Demons states gently, a hundred voices echoing his soft whisper.

Alduin growls, claws flexing into the tender earth below, "It will be squashed. No one can stand against me." The World Eater arrogantly states, earning a chuckle from the masked Sorcerer. "No one but you, my friend."

Solomon's chuckle slowly ends, "I do have a very talented student, you know?" He reminds the World Eater, who clicks his tongue like a child. "She may defeat you."

"She won't." Alduin stresses out.

"Maybe not." Solomon shrugs, "But Humans are cunning and treacherous, my friend. Your arrogance is easily used against you."

Alduin growls, "Why are you telling me this, Solomon?" The Dragon presses, a hint of pleading within his tone, "Why must you leave?"

Paarthurnax stared at his brother sadly. His brother was lost. He was sad. He was feeling things he never did before, and he clearly hated these new feelings.

"…I am a very treacherous bastard myself, my friend." Solomon reveals, turning to fully face the setting sun, hands crossed behind his back. "I plotted, calculated, studied, and double-checked everything. And that is why I am here. Why I came here."

"I walked back against the River of Time." Solomon chuckles as the shadows swell, his laugh backed by thousands of demented Souls that make up his existence. "I left the Gods in the future, all for this."

"All for a treacherous plot that they cannot witness. One that they cannot stop."

Solomon turns, "I will deprive you of your purpose, World Eater."

Alduin stills, and the younger form of Paarthurnax balks in horror at the spoken words, "That is preposterous!" The World Eater rages, "That is going against Fate! Against the very reason I exist! I was born, to Destroy! It is why I came to be-!"

"Oh fuck that!" Solomon shouts is echoed by millions of raging voices, the shadows swelling and devouring the valley, "Your purpose?! The reason you were born!? Fate!? Fuck all of that!"

Alduin trembles and steps back, shocked and silent at his friend's outburst, "No child should be born, just so that they can be hated."

It was there, that young Paarthurnax started to understand.

"If you truly accepted this purpose, and you were Fate's bitch, then you'd have already torn this World asunder and reset the Cycle, Alduin." The World Eater avoids his friend's gaze, knowing that he was right.

"But I know I cannot change your mind through words or power alone." The Sorcerer from the future states softly, a hundred mournful voices backing his words, "Yet know this, my friend…"

"I will tear Fate asunder."

That declaration echoed across the River of Time, yet there were no Gods to hold witness to it.

"There will come a day when Dragon will be loved. When they and mortals will coexist."

"And there will come a day where you can be yourself, free of the chains Fate has wrapped around you."

The World Eater shuts his eyes and clenches his jaws shut, his head bowing low. "Don't go…"

Solomon steps forward, a lone head stretching to rest upon Alduin's head.

"We'll meet again." He assures, "I'll be a little younger, less wise, more reckless."

"You won't recognize me. And I won't recognize you as my friend."

"But know that everything I've done up until now is for you."

And young Paarthurnax understood what he had to do on that very day.

If a mortal was working so hard to make sure Dragons prospered and could coexist with the mortal Races… Then why couldn't a Dragon do the same?

Solomon pulls back and starts walking away. Alduin started to move, but forced himself to stop.

His jaws opened and closed, his eyes grew panicked and fearful.

The World Eater wanted to beg. He wanted to rage. He wanted his friend to stay back.

...But he held hope. Hope that this friend of his could achieve the impossible.

"Why are you doing this?" The one to ask such a question was the younger Paarthurnax.

And a chuckle was his answer. A happy, joyful chuckle. One not backed by other devoured Souls.

But one that just had Solomon's oh so familiar voice, and his happiness.

"What can I say…" The robed man starts, reaching up to remove his simple Wooden Mask. "I'm just a sucker for Happy Endings."

The Mask comes off, and the Lord of Demons disappears, as if he was never there, returned to either his proper timeline, or another random date in the future.

And Paarthurnax steps out of the Time Tear himself, a low sigh leaving his jaws. "A sucker for Happy Endings, huh?"

Slowly, the ancient Dragon gazes up at the sky, gaze more tranquil than before.

"I guess we are one and the same, then."

~~XXX~~

Kara had to wonder what Leonidas did to his girls within his dream to leave them staring into the void for nearly three whole days in a row.

Aurelia was a constant flushed mess, and she would sometimes giggle to herself and hide beneath the covers of the bed like a bashful teenager.

Hildr… Hildr was drooling. Constantly. As if she was a wolf staring at a juicy steak, with even Gretel struggling to make her older sister focus for even a few seconds.

Whatever that man did to the ladies clearly had changed their lives… For about three days.

For the next four days? Kara watched the two women wrap chains around the sleeping skeleton, and wrap more around his bed.

Then board up the windows. Fill the ground with traps.

Then board up the doors. Then the corridor. And the stairs.

By the seventh day of Leonidas being asleep, Kara was still very confused about these extreme containment methods being taken.

So, she did the reasonable things… And just asked the ladies.

Aurelia's still-flushed face was all smiles. A smile filled with pure dread. "When Leo wakes up, he'll be well-rested." She had said before dragging the massive chains meant to hold down cargo ships at the port towards Leonidas' room.

Kara was left confused… For about five seconds. Then she and Lah frantically started helping the two girls in sealing the sleeping catastrophe lest he be unleashed on Nirn at full power once more.

And now, he'll be able to rest. Meaning Leonidas will always be at his worst.

Gretel watched the chaos alongside Poopdaggah, sitting by the bed covered in massive chains.

And it was because of that, that she was the first to see it happen.

She saw Leonidas' head turn, his purple flames for eyes focus on her… And then the chains turned into frozen powder.

"Between Heaven and Earth…" The man announced to the horrified room while somehow standing up as he struck a T-Pose, his upper body lifting off the bed by itself, "I alone am…"

He struck a pose, head tilted, gaze lofty, as if he had ascended to Godhood, "...The silliest one."

Silence.

And then- "Woe, Poopdaggah be upon ye'!" Leonidas throws Poopdaggah towards Kara, making the woman screech in fear and disgust.

Said Riekling flew across the room with a fart and a cry of "Bomboclat!" like usual as he latched onto the Second Archmage, who tried to fend off the howling creature.

Aurelia and Hildr stood by the doors, flushed and trembling as Leo descended from the bed like a God stepping within the mortal realm, his arms spread aside as he chanted "Hallelujah… Hallelujah…" Beneath his breath.

"L-Leo… Dear…" Aurelia starts, voice trembling, gaze shy and bashful, but also determined to save people from the unspeakable horrors Leonidas will inflict upon them. "J-Just… Behave, okay?"

This was the same as telling a human being to stop breathing air.

"Aurelia, my beloved…" Leonidas sighs, his voice overflowing with charm and love, instantly making the silver-haired beauty melt.

"Aurelia, don't fall for his charm!" Hildr shouts, but it was too late. The Dragonborn fell before she could put up a proper battle.

Hildr wouldn't fall so easily, though!

So, Leonidas… Turns towards Gretel, "You know, your big sis kept begging me to give her lots of 'puppies'!"

Hildr wails in utter horror, shame and embarrassment while Gretel crumbles to the floor in a fit of wheezing laughter at the reveal of what Hildr's cries of pleasure were.

And like so, Leonidas steps outside the College and takes in a deep breath.

Lah watched him from the side… And decided not to even try, as he could still hear his wife screaming from within the building, followed by the sound of glass shattering and a screaming Riekling getting launched across the Ocean.

So, the almighty Great Sage of Knowledge… Tries and fails to whistle as Leonidas strolls and skips happily towards Winterhold.

And soon, chaos fell upon that poor city.

Seven people went missing, five more were lost at sea, two were left comatose after getting choke-slammed through a table, the floor, and into the wine-cellar below the inn by a so called 'Wombo-combo' from Leonidas and Poopdaggah.

Savos Aren was found crucified within his chambers inside the College, muttering something about 'Masks' and 'Undead' being his greatest trauma.

Poopdaggah was somehow elected as the new Jarl of Winterhold during the whole chaos.

During his starting speech he let out a low, whistling fart that lasted one minute and forty-seven seconds. That was his whole speech.

It received a standing ovation that lasted two hours. Many were left crying. Rumor say it was because of the fart, but it was soon shot down as heresy against the great Poopdaggah.

According to eye-witnesses, Jarl Poopdaggah declared death to all Thalmors and free worship of Talos.

And during the celebrations, Jarl Poopdaggah and his best friend Leonidas disappeared, riding off into the snow.

Thus, we move to a certain crypt.

Sealed away within her cramped prison, Serana stirred. Her throat was parched, each gulp feeling like she was swallowing scorching sand.

She could hear voices. After so long. How long has it even been?

She tried to keep count, once upon a time. Counting seconds, then minutes and hours, then days and months… And then the hunger got worse and she lost count.

She didn't try to pick it back up.

"-must be here-"

"-Lord Harkon will be pleased-"

Harkon? Her father?

Was he looking for her?

"-do about the girl?"

"-cares? Just grab the Scroll-"

"-was told she was a beauty…"

"-want to enjoy her before leaving?"

Serana tried to sneer. She failed, for she was too weak. Of course they were here for the damnable thing on her back.

Of course her father only cared about that. She had hoped… But what did she expect, from the man who ignored the survival of his family after the most horrifying moment of their life, and instead was elated due to the power he earned for it.

It was beyond foolish of her to think he'd change. That he'd start to care.

The voices became clearer as her prison shuddered and seemed to rise.

"-do we open it now? It doesn't react to our blood-"

"-must be some trick-"

"-can't we break in-"

"-too dangerous-"

"-daggah."

"-fair, fair- What the fuck is that-"

Serana stirs when loud, horrid blood-curling screams reach her ears as some kind of creature slaughtered and tore apart her father's servant.

The sheer terror within their voices made her wonder what kind of horror her mother had sealed her away with to make sure she isn't freed… But she was too tired and hungry to care.

That is, until she started feeling cold. Her, a Vampire, feeling cold.

Thick, glowing frost lit up the darkness of her prison, coating the enchanted stone walls completely until they cracked, then shattered loudly.

Light flooded her eyes, making Serana flinch, then grunt as she stumbled forward, falling into a pair of arms that easily catches her.

Slowly, she blinks her eyes open and-

"Hey, you. You're finally awake."

...Why was an Undead holding her?

And why was there a Riekling drenched in blood looking at her over his shoulder?

A.N. And so, Serana is finally here, ready to be bullied and suffer under Leonidas' presence.

Not really, she'll absolutely adore his antics.

Also yes, I decided not to write the smut scene in the end, might write it when the chapter becomes public though, who knows!

Either way, hope y'all enjoyed this chappy!

Toodles!

I, Draugr Chapter 49

Rubble and dust cascade down his muscular, injured form as he stands, a heavy grunt flowing past his bloodied and chapped lips as he does so.

Tilting his head, Deinmaar spits out a glob of blood before rolling his aching shoulders.

Despite the fact that his body was covered in darkening bruises, he couldn't stop the excitement that flowed through his veins. The pure, exhilarating adrenaline.

The satisfaction of a proper contest of might against might.

Far ahead of him, the remains of a crumbled building burst apart, revealing the dust-covered form of Ysgramor, equally covered in bruises but still standing tall and proud.

Though, his large and long beard couldn't hide the massive grin on the ancient Atmoran's face.

"It has been a long time since I've exchanged blows with a proper Atmoran." The First Man chuckles deeply, closing his eyes and breathing in through his nostrils, "It makes me nostalgic."

Standing tall, Deinmaar breathes in, "I've been told about your great achievements." Albeit he found the… Genocide of the Snow Elves extreme, Deinmaar knew that accomplishing such a feat with just an army five-hundred strong was something no one could replicate.

"Great achievements, huh?" The titan of a man sighs out, his eyes opening to show how distant and lost they were.

"My boy…" The First Man starts, turning to fully regard the younger Atmoran before him, "Learn how to control your anger. Never take actions that are fueled by it."

Deinmaar breathes in, feeling his lungs cool down from that breath, "...Do you regret it?"

Ysgramor hums softly, "I regret many things." Turning his head, the giant gazes at another distant battlefield in the now ruined city, "I regret making my brothers and sisters stain their hands and blades in the blood of young and old alike."

"I regret being unable to grant them a warrior's death."

"And I regret…" His gaze, once more, flicks towards a distant battlefield where two terrifying Mages were clashing against one another. "I regret not helping a good brother of mine."

Slumping, Deinmaar lowers his head and chuckles softly, "I guess we are really alike." His brother risked his life to bring him out of that graveyard. He risked everything, all just to open the eyes of a fool stuck in the past.

And yet, until now, there was nothing he could do to offer his brother some form of relief. He couldn't give him back sleep, or the sense of taste, or the sense of touch.

Deinmaar would gladly trade away these things so to give them to Leonidas, but he knew the man would turn such things down.

Shanking his head, Ysgramor stands tall once more, muscular shoulders squaring up and rippling with suppressed strength, "Enough talking, my boy. Let us finish this." He declares as his right hand stretches out, and distant rubble bursts apart as Wuuthrad flies back in the titan's grasp.

Deinmaar breathes in and narrows his eyes, his own massive blade flying back into his grasp with but a tug of his Magicka attached to the Enchantment on the weapon's handle.

Smirking, the First Man rests his massive legendary weapon on his broad shoulders, "Come, my boy." He beckons with one hand, "Grant me a death befitting a warrior."

No more words were wasted as both Atmorans launched themselves at each other with weapons raised and readied to kill.

Ysgramor raises Wuuthrad high above his head and hacks it down like a guillotine blade, the very air condensing and booming around the edge of the war-ax that was swiftly super-heated.

While Deinmaar, instead… Turned his lateral slash into a stab at the very last second.

Both blades strike true, with one sinking deep into Deinmaar's left shoulder, while another pierced straight through Ysgramor stomach.

The titan of a man staggers and chokes out blood, but his eyes gain a gentle light as his grip trembles around Wuuthrad's staff.

Staring down at the young Atmoran before him, Ysgramor saw someone else.

He saw a young boy. His young boy. The young boy he thought he lost at sea during a storm, right after he fled the burning Saarthal.

"Why didn't you finish it…?" Ysgramor asks softly, not showing any of his feeling or inner thoughts.

Deinmaar hisses softly from the pain of having his shoulder cleaved open, but then smiles up at the giant in front of him, "You still have one last regret to take handle, no?"

Slowly, the great blade is wrenched out of Ysgramor's stomach, with the titan barely letting out a grunt of pain as blood overflows out of the gaping wound.

Chuckling, he uses his free hand to pat Deinmaar's good shoulder as he frees Wuuthrad from the other, "You've made me proud, my boy." Slowly, the titan turns and starts moving away as Deinmaar crumbles to his knees.

Panting, the former Dragon Priest perks up when the sound of approaching footsteps registers to his ears. He turns his gaze to the ruined street, and allows himself to smile and relax when he notices Aurelia approach, a tired Hildr slumped over her back and being carried by the pale woman.

Ysgramor regards the new arrivals with a smile, then closes his eyes in mourning, "You have my thanks for granting my people a proper death, young lady."

Aurelia blinks at the titan, her eyes widening when she realizes who might be standing before her before she lightly bows her head, "They were incredible warriors and fought to the very end."

Ysgramor grins and rests Wuuthrad on his shoulder, uncaring of his injury, "Not even a scratch on you… Oh, I am going to tease them so badly in Sovngarde!" Turning around and laughing loudly, the giant starts walking away as he waves his free hand over his shoulder, "It was a pleasure meeting you all, children!"

Aurelia watched the titan leave as she crouches down next to Deinmaar, her Restoration Magic flaring to life and swiftly healing all of his bruises and internal damage with ease.

"He is going where Leonidas is." Hildr tiredly points out, her lone eye droopy, as if she'd fall asleep at any moment.

Deinmaar nods quietly, then moves to stand, "Let us handle the remaining chains first."

That's when a hand comes to rest on top of his head and smash him back down on the ground.

"First you get healed." Aurelia commands, eyes sharp and cold.

Deinmaar shudders and nearly whimpers, then obediently sits down on the ground.

"Y-yes, ma'am…"

~~XXX~~

Something about being so, so damn tired has made me an absolute crash out.

I've always been a bit… crazy, and I've always been willing to fuck around and find out with a Daedric Prince.

But threatening them with they Nymic? Oh boy, that's a new thing even for me.

I want my nappy time, goddamn it!

"You are playing a dangerous game, mortal." The towering avatar of Mehrunes Dagon growls out, embers and flames flowing past his lips to show his anger.

I shrug, "And you can deepthroat my bone, homie." I hold back on snapping Ahzidal's neck, because I know it'll have dangerous consequences, "Also, I am not much of a 'mortal'."

Mehrunes Dagon narrows his eyes and crouches low, his glowing gaze focused sharply on me, "So… You have realized what you are, Dreamer."

So the Daedric Princes have known all this time, huh? Or perhaps they had an inkling.

I've only started piecing things together after Sheogorath attached a piece of his Realm to me.

That's… Something that, normally, isn't possible. Gates to Realms outside of Nirn can be opened, but bringing one such Realm and superimposing it on Nirn? Yeah, that's impossible.

But not for me.

I am… Different. Those laws don't affect me, hence I can forcefully connect two Realms together even when the laws of Nirn are against it.

By being the anchor, I can do such actions that even Daedric Princes can't.

Which makes me believe that the one that sent me here, to Skyrim… Was myself all along.

Can I travel between Realities? Can I connect myself between them? So many questions…

"Then you know of what I am capable off." The Daedric Prince pursues his lips, his face scrunching up in barely restrained fury and indignation.

"I am sure all the other Daedric Princes have their gaze set on us right now." I lift my head to better stare at him, free hand on my hip, "I just need two seconds to scream out your full Nymic for them to hear and memorize."

"Two seconds I can easily buy by abusing the colossal amounts of Magicka around here." The darkness below me bubbles and expands, ready to move the moment the Daedric Prince tries to strike at me.

Here his powers are limited. I am sure he is still bullshit powerful, but he can't manipulate Reality as this isn't his Realm of existence where he is an almighty God.

Mehrunes clenches all of his hands into tight, trembling fists as he glares down at me, "I need assurance."

"Oh?"

"I need assurance that you will not share my Nymic with the other Princes." His gaze flicks towards Ahzidal, then towards the Eye of Magnus. Something clearly happens and changes, as I feel the shivering Ahzidal choke and quiver within my grasp, his eyes becoming lost as he stops his struggles.

"I will not unless you force me, or renege on our deal." I state, turning to stare back at the towering Daedric Prince's Avatar, "I understand the enormity of the disaster it may cause if I do so."

Mehrunes Dagon visibly relaxes at my words, and allows himself to let out a slow breath of clear relief, "Very well then. I will not open try to open anymore Oblivion Gates for as long as you exist." With that, the titanic avatar stands and seems ready to leave.

"Say…" I start, making the Daedric Prince pause and throw me a confused look, "You wanna jump Molag Bal sometimes?"

The Avatar disappears in the blink of an eye.

Pussy.

"Only my boy Sheogorath's got the balls to put that bitch in a choke-hold." I sigh, then turn towards the dangling Ahzidal in my grasp, "Now, what to do with you?"

I consider just shattering him into ice crystals, but I pause when I hear the loud sound of heavy footsteps approaching.

"May I request you release him?" I turn my head to regard the speaker, a towering titan of a man taller than even Deinmaar, covered in bruises and with a gaping stab wound in his stomach.

"Ysgramor, I take?"

The titan chuckles softly and nods, "The one and only." Within one of his hands lay the massive Wuuthrad too, whole and not broken. "You must be Deinmaar's friend."

Slowly, I lay the hollow Ahzidal down, "Looks like you two had fun." Ysgramor chuckle turns into loud, roaring laughter.

"Indeed! He is a proper Atmoran." Stepping close, the titan slams Wuuthrad down right beside me, "Here; I leave this to you. Find someone worthy of wielding it."

"Someone worthy of leading people with it."

I release Ahzidal's throat and step back with a low sigh, my hand grips the handle of the heavy and massive war-ax for a short moment before I lift it up and move to step away, "Your boat still stands. It has been turned into a hall that now houses incredible and proud warriors."

Ysgramor stops momentarily at my words, and his shoulders grow less tense, and more relaxed, "I see… You have my thanks." I nod, then take a few steps away before turning around.

I watch as Ysgramor stops before the kneeling and slumped form of Ahzidal, who just stares at the ground with an empty gaze.

Until a sword is tossed before him, "Pick it up." Ysgramor commands, and Ahzidal trembles.

The shorter old man lifts his gaze and watches as Ysgramor turns around and puts some distance between them, "My lord…"

"Lord?" Ysgramor scoffs, "We are brothers, you fool." The other longsword he had in his hold is raised and pointed at Ahzidal, "Pick up that sword and come at me."

Ahzidal's eyes widen in understanding, "Ysgramor, I'm unworthy of granting you the death you deserve!" Desperate and hysterical, Ahzidal throws the sword on the ground away and all but kowtows towards the giant Atmoran, "Just kill me! For what I've done to you and the others!"

Ysgramor snarls and stomps on the ground, causing a miniature earthquake that has Ahzidal whimper, "You think I give a fuck about dying a proper warrior's death!?"

The titan roars, face scrunched in pure fury, "You think our brothers and sisters cared!?"

"Sovngarde is but a hall! We wild man and women can party even in the wilds as long as we are together, you fool!" The blade in Ysgramor's grasp starts trembling as he keeps it aimed at Ahzidal, "Like we've done countless times, after countless victories! Have you forgotten, Félagi?!"

Ahzidal stirs at being called with his real name, his eyes overflowing with tears clenching shut, his teeth gritting to the point of cracking and his hands balled up into trembling fists.

"I have failed you, brother… Just like you failed me." Ysgramor whispers, booming voice now quiet and comforting, "I could have stopped after I avenged Saarthal and my people… But you kept whispering venomous words in my head, rousing my hate and anger, further fueling that mad revenge of yours…"

"I saw it. I was aware of it. We all were… Yet we never tried to help you."

I watch the scene and sigh softly, then move towards the discarded sword to pick it up. I turn it in my hands, then walk towards Ahzidal and offer it to him.

His trembling eyes follow the blade all the way up to me, "You should do it." I suggest, confusing the deranged old man.

Slowly and with trembling hands, he takes the offered sword, "The Ahzidal I know off is different." I state, releasing the sword and turning around to walk back towards Wuuthrad.

"Your whole life has been wasted away for useless, foolish revenge." I rest a hand against the pole of Wuuthrad, "At least make sure that your death is worth something. If not for yourself, at least for the one you respect the most."

I shouldn't care about the type of ending this deranged man has, but… Deep down, I wish for him to at least have some solace.

Because if I were to lose myself… I'd wish to be granted some solace in my final moments.

I know I've been cutting it close, and I've only been hanging onto a slip of sanity thanks to Aurelia and Hildr and my feelings for them, but I've also allowed myself to get slack.

Because of Deinmaar, Kara and Lah's presence, I've started believing that it'll be fine even if I lose myself, as they can put a stop to me before it gets bad.

It is utterly foolish of me to think like that.

Ysgramor remains quiet as he watches Ahzidal slowly stand, then breathe in. The old man uses his sleeve to wipe at his face before finally meeting the gaze of his lord, "I accept your duel… Brother."

I cross my arms and lean back, and Ysgramor looks towards me, "I'll leave my boy in your care." I pause at that.

Does he mean that Deinmaar is-?!

I don't have time to question his words as the two ancient men launch themselves at each other.

There is no clash, no mighty battle of skill and strength.

Just their blades going through each other's hearts in a decisive strike.

Ahzidal shudders and breathes out, "P-Please…" I hear him wheeze softly, "Don't let them destroy the Towers…"

His form slumps soon after, life having left his eyes, which are soon closed by Ysgramor.

The titan of a man throws me a light, content smile before closing his own eyes… And he died just like that. Standing tall.

What a fucking chad.

"May you find peace in death."

[A Grand Soul (Titan) has been absorbed!]

[A Grand Soul (Enchanter) has been absorbed!]

My first Grand Souls?! And two of them at the same time?!

[Grand Soul]

The powerful, ancient Soul of a living legend who has left their mark in history, or shaped it completely.

These mighty Souls each hold a unique characteristic related to who owned it.

These Souls can either be used to massively empower a fitting Spell, or devoured to gain the knowledge of the Soul's owner.

So they are nearly as insane as Dragon Souls, huh? No wonder it's so hard to find them, as only beings like Kara or around her level may have such Souls.

I guess I can use the Titan one to massively empower my Juggernaut Spell, while for Ahzidal… Is it worth learning how to Enchant? I've been meaning to, but I just gave up on it due to me getting more and more tired, so I focused on what I already had.

But this is Ahzidal's knowledge that I am talking about. There probably is no better Enchanter other than him.

Something to think about later.

I grab Wuuthrad and lift it up, then turn back towards the Eye of Magnus just in time to see the last chain be shattered.

The colossal orb lights up even more just as the sky starts cracking and falling apart. And so does the ruined city.

The Eye of Magnus releases a colossal pulse of Magicka that erases the Pocket Dimension as it expands, and I turn to glance back at the corpses of Ysgramor and Ahzidal just as it sweeps past.

The corpses disappear, but I find myself standing in an empty, destroyed street in a dark and massive cave.

Around me, the ruins of Saarthal stretch forth everywhere underground, while the glowing and free Eye of Magnus pulses and thrums with constant waves of Magicka that sweep in all directions, possibly around Nirn too.

"Leo!" I perk up and turn, then relax when I see Aurelia and Deinmaar approach, a tired Hildr slumped over Aurelia's back.

Deinmaar is holding the upper parts of his armor under one of his arms, and he does look quite a bit disheveled, but Aurelia probably healed him.

Aurelia instead just looks a bit tired and wary, but no worse for wear, "Glad to see you are all good."

I turn to Hildr and gently cup her cheek in one hand as she smiles sweetly at me, "You shouldn't have pushed yourself so much…"

Her smile doesn't falter as she pushes her cheek deeper into my palm, "It's to make you sleep. Worth it." Gods, I adore her so much…

"Well, I guess our job here is done, then?" I state, tilting my head to stare at the woman standing behind the trio, making them all jump and turn to face her.

Vaermina's avatar smiles at us, her eyes two empty voids. Her appearance is that of an old lady now, hunched over in her black robes and leaning on a staff, "Indeed. You've kept up your end of the deal."

Despite the growing exhilaration within me, I still remain tense, "There's no hidden poison in this reward, is there?"

Vaermina laughs softly, "Please, I'd rather not have to deal with Sheogorath more than I have to." The old lady slowly steps closer, "I promise upon my name that your rewards are free of any binding contracts and schemes."

I mull over it for a bit, before just throwing caution out of the window, "Fuck it. Hit me with it." Vaermina chuckles, then points a finger towards me.

And suddenly, my mental exhaustion somehow feels physical too. My 'eyelids' feel heavy. As heavy as a mountain.

I have no chance to resist. Months of exhaustion hit me in the face with the most vicious haymaker in existence.

And everything goes dark.

….

Aurelia felt like crying at the scene before her, as Deinmaar slowly helps Leonidas' slumped form down on the ground of the ancient ruins.

"He will be asleep for a while. Days, even." Vaermina informs them gently, "Just patiently wait for him to get his rest."

Aurelia sniffs, crouching down so Hildr could sit down beside the finally sleeping man, both of their eyes moist with tears.

"Thank you." Aurelia states towards the Prince's elderly Avatar, who just smiled and shook her head.

"It is I who should thank you." The Goddess states, her void-like gaze flicking upward, towards the pulsing giant orb that is the Eye of Magnus. "Now, state your rewards."

Hildr chews on her lower lip, then reaches towards Aurelia to grab her hand and pull her closer, "Could we possibly enter his Dreams?"

Vaermina blinks at the request, clear surprise on her Avatar's aged face, "You'd use your reward for that?" She asked, glancing at both Aurelia and Hildr.

The two smiled warmly at each other, then nodded at the Daedric Prince, fully determined.

"Very well then, do lay down." Vaermina instructs with a nod, "You will wake up after a full night's sleep, so make that time count." Both ladies nod and move to lay down beside Leonidas' slumped form.

Deinmaar smiled down at them, "I'll take care of things on this side." He reassures them just as the Goddess waves her hand and puts them to sleep.

"What about you, then?" Deinmaar perks up, his smile not faltering one bit.

"I am looking for someone." He states softly and directly.

Vaermina nods, "And I may know where that someone is."

Hope fills Deinmaar's chest, only for the Goddess to squash it, "But you lack the strength to save her now… For she is a prisoner of Hermaeus Mora within his Realm."

A bony finger reaches forward and taps Deinmaar on his forehead, and his gaze grows lost.

For but a moment, he looked within the depths of Apochrypha.

And there, at the peak of its highest pillar, was a pale white-haired woman bound in glowing purple chains.

Her eyes were closed, and her face seemed stained with tears as she lay there limply.

Deinmaar nearly shattered his teeth from how hard he was gritting them, his heart burning at the sight of the woman he yearns and loves deeply being bound in chains.

"Why does he have her…?" Deinmaar growls out, restraining himself from shouting at the Daedric Prince before him.

"You know well why, boy." The Goddess chides, "She was a student of Solomon…"

"The knowledge she holds, which has been passed down from her teacher, is something that Hermaeus Mora yearns and thirsts for."

Deinmaar scowls, before releasing a long breath and slumping down, "Thank you, Lady Vaermina."

The elderly lady bows her head, then turns away, "I shall take my leave now." The Atmoran nods and leans back as the Prince's avatar vanishes just like that.

His mind wanders back to that accursed sight, and his hands clench into trembling fists.

Only for his focus to snap someplace else as his sharp instincts and senses detect something off. "I know you are there." He states, standing tall and protectively over his three slumbering friends.

His gaze turns down the ruined road, where space seems to shimmer momentarily, before finally revealing three figures.

The leading figure in golden and red robes, an Altmer, raises his hands in a calming gesture, "Peace, we mean you no harm."

Deinmaar sniffs, his greatsword flying withing his grasp the very next moment, "The Psijic Order, I presume?"

The trio pauses, clear surprise on their faces, "...Were you expecting us?" The leading Altmer questions, apprehension visible on his face.

Deinmaar nods his head towards his slumbering brother, "My brother predicted you'd come for the Eye of Magnus." The trio tenses up even further, "Leave, and I will act as if I've seen nothing."

The leading Altmer chews on his lower lip momentarily, "Apologies, but that cannot be done-" His words choke when Deinmaar stomps forward, his very presence instantly suffocating them, "W-We don't need to resort to violence! The Eye! It is too dangerous to-"

"I don't care." Deinmaar shuts the Altmer in golden robes down with a sharp stare, "I trust my brother unconditionally, so whatever he does with this Artifact, I shall follow."

Quaranir shares a look with his two companions, their gazes tense and nervous, but also determined. Resigned, Quaranir releases a deep sigh as he calls upon his Magicka, "My apologies for this-"

The ceiling of the cave is suddenly torn apart, causing the light of the sun to rain down and light up the scorched ruins of Saarthal.

Quaranir tenses, but he was too late to act.

A minute woman appears between his two companions and snaps her fingers, causing them to explode and vanish without a trace.

"Man, Skelly-boy must be an Oracle!" Kara exclaims, a relaxed and chilling smile on her face as she reaches forward to poke Quaranir. "Piss off, mate."

The Altmer vanishes just like that, and Deinmaar blinks and tilts his head, "Was it necessary to kill them?" He questions as the flapping of wings rings out, with Lah's massive form slowly descending from the opening in the cave's ceiling.

"Best to send a message, can't risk them coming back over and over again after all." Kara points out, before glancing at the sleeping at the sleeping trio behind Deinmaar. Her expression softens and grows warm at the sight, "I'm glad to see that he is finally resting…"

Lah stomps closer, his gaze focused on the floating Eye of Magnus, "I can feel the changes happening already… The crippling effect on all Mages should vanish within a few years, at most."

Kara grins at the news, then falters momentarily, "Yeah, but…"

"Where the fuck are we gonna hide that damn thing…?"

….

They awoke with a start, right next to each other.

Hildr was the first to shoot up to her feet, her lone eye wide as she swiftly gazed around, taking in the sight of the massive lake in front of her surrounded by a forest.

Aurelia sits up next and blinks a few times, then perks up when Hildr points at the other side of the lake, "There's a house there. Maybe Leo is there?"

They both sit up and start moving around the lake, with Hildr inspecting every little thing she sees, "I don't recognize these trees… Or the birds."

Aurelia nods in agreement as she listens to the bird cries, "Yes, their cries sound different… Could this be Leo's homeland?"

Hildr hums, the narrows her lone eye, "Now that you mention it… Isn't this place familiar? He spoke about it to us, when we were on the wall that night." Aurelia pauses, then takes in the scenery once more.

"His vacation home…" She mumbles aloud, having been told about such a place the night she and Leo confessed each other's feelings.

A home he used to go to when he was young, each summer. He used to spend hours fishing in the lake, or swimming in it. He loved the peace and quiet of it.

When they reached the strange but large house, Hildr took the lead in knocking first, but a loud splashing sound made them share a look.

So instead they walked around the house and to the back, where stairs lead to a wooden bridge built upon the waters of the lake.

"'Relia… Look." Hildr points towards some discarded clothes on the bridge.

A very familiar mask and set of armored robes.

Aurelia instantly became flustered, her pale face going as red as a tomato.

And that's when the water by the bridge splashed once more as a figure lifted himself out of the water, "Fuck yeah, I at least can feel stuff in my dreams!" The man sighs happily as he stands tall on the wooden bridge.

His hands dragged along his face, then brushed his shoulder-length bright golden hair back, while droplets of water dripped down his muscular and bare chest.

The man turned, a satisfied grin on his face, revealing nearly glowing purple eyes- That instantly snapped wide open when he caught sight of Hildr and Aurelia.

Aurelia had by now covered her burning face with her hands, but kept her fingers open so to shamelessly stare with quivering eyes at the man before her.

Hildr instead was also blushing darkly, but had a wide and lecherous grin on her face that showed off her fangs.

Leonidas blinks a few times, looks down at his state of undress… Then shamelessly grins and strikes a pose in front of the ladies.

Aurelia screams and flips around.

Hildr instead? She pounces.

Leonidas is the one to scream then.

A.N. Soo… Do y'all want lewds next chapter? I might write the lewds, but I won't post them on , so y'all will have to wait for the QQ/FF release for them.

Or, I could just write diabetes inducing sweetness.

Also, next chapter will finally have Serana appear!

I've also revealed how the Multicross travels will happen, which will happen in maybe a dozen or so chapters, give or take.

Either way, hope y'all enjoyed this chappy!

Toodles!

I, Draugr Chapter 48

Dawnbreaker hacked down mercilessly, smashing and slightly cracking the frozen blade overflowing with catastrophic amounts of Magicka.

The immense heat flowing out of the solar blade swelled, its radiance reaching near-blinding levels as Aurelia pressed down, forcing the tall frozen warrior before her to fall on one knee.

Her gaze flicked upward, past the now kneeling giant, where ten more were rushing down the street with weapons in hand.

Her foot lashed out, and the kneeling warrior was sent hurling into his rushing companions, and Aurelia doesn't even blink when a white-hot beam of flames flies over her shoulder and towards the group.

The beam smashes into the chest of the flying Atmoran before exploding into a colossal dome of immense heat and force, flash-melting the street and surrounding buildings with laughable ease.

"This is one hell of a welcoming party…" Hildr muses softly from behind Aurelia, who nods with a heavy frown on her pale face.

Twirling Dawnbreaker, Aurelia lowers her stance, "Don't lower your guard." She warns just as the Atmorans rush out of pillar of smoke left behind by the explosion created by Hildr's spell.

The redhead scoffed at the charging Atmorans who showed no sign of injury or having been slowed down due to the explosion.

Each of them stood taller than two meters, with muscular, well-trained body clad in dense dark armor that was now covered in thick layers of jagged ice.

They pounced forth as one, showing their skills as the fearsome warriors that drove a whole race to extinction with an army of just five-hundred on their side.

Aurelia breathes out, and her body tenses, eyes narrowing into sharp focus.

Her right foot stomps forward, and she moves-

Dawnbreaker cleaves laterally through the air, smashing into a hastily raised heavy shield. The force of the blow lifted the Atmoran off his feet and launched him into the adjacent building.

Her shoulder slammed forward, impacting the chest of the Atmoran who had lifted her Warhammer above her head, creating a miniature shock-wave on impact that sent the frozen woman flying and smashing into three of her companions behind her.

Freeing one hand, the Dragonborn flips around to catch a descending wrist carrying a short blade aimed at her neck. Her hand squeezed, and a crack sounded out, followed by a deafening smash as she pulls the Atmoran over her shoulder and smashes him into the floor in front of her.

Her head turns while her boot rises, and she faces the other Atmorans as her lips part, "FUS-RO-DAH!"

Her boot smashes down, crushing the skull of the downed Atmoran while the others were sent hurling like meteorites across dozens of buildings, turning an entire portion of the ghost city into a layer of rubble.

Hildr whistles at the sight as she places Rahgot's mask on her face, "You really hate the Undead, don't you?"

Aurelia sniffs and steps back, "No… Not these ones, at least." Her answer earns her a confused tilt of the head from Hildr, "These are Revenants."

Aurelia breathes out, her heart heavy as she glanced at the corpse at her feet.

Revenants, a unique type of Undead being. While most Undead are either made, or are born from resentment or forced duties placed upon the deceased being, Revenants are different.

Revenants just refuse to move on. By sheer Will alone, they force their Souls to remain within their bodies, creating a unique form of Undead being that are far mightier than most.

Aurelia internally wondered what caused so many of these warriors to just decide not to move on. To not seek their much deserved eternal rest.

"Careful!" Hildr calls out, startling Aurelia out of her thoughts as the redhead pounces forward, now clad in the flaming and molten armor from the Dragon Priest mask.

Her flaming blade blocks a longsword owned by the Atmoran with a shield that had been hurled into a building, and an explosion of flames disrupts the power behind it, else Hildr wouldn't be able to block it even when Reinforcement was pumping through her body at full power.

Having disrupted that swing, Hildr lashes out with her palm, a blazing white-hot Original Rune flashing to life as she slaps it onto the chest of the armored Atmoran.

From it, a gargantuan fireball rumbled to life, swelling to the size of a house within a second and swallowing the Atmoran within it.

Flipping on her heels, Hildr commands the roaring fireball, sending it crashing and melting through ruins and rubble, collecting all the other gathering Atmorans and the downed ones.

More poured out of the woodwork, soon reaching the hundreds, but Hildr's fireball kept growing more and more, soon doubling, then tripling, then reaching ten times its previous size.

Until, finally, she compressed it whole into the size of a dot and let it explode.

The heated shock-wave turned rubble to molten slag instantly and devastated an even greater portion of the city as gargantuan pillar of roaring flames gushed skyward, hitting one of the colossal chains binding the sphere.

This time it was Aurelia's turn to whistle at the sight, her stance relaxing as she watched the enormous pillar burn brightly, "Are you sure its safe to use so much Magicka? I'm sure there's a lot more of them around."

If these Atmorans were the Five-Hundred Companions, then the group that they just handled – likely not permanently – was but a fifth of the whole army.

Hildr pauses, then realizes that her reserves had not shrunk one bit. Instead, they were back to full and bursting, as if she wasn't using the Dragon Priest Mask and pumping Reinforcement through her body at full power.

Her lone eye glances at the sphere spewing endless amounts of Magicka hanging above the city, and a feral grin splits her face. "Looks like I can go as wild as I want here!" A cackle that resembles Leonidas' usually crazed ones flows past her lips, making Aurelia snort in amusement.

"Well… We are really going to need it." The Dragonborn muses, bright platinum flames coating Dawnbreaker as her gaze moves towards the distance.

From the edges of the destruction, massive frozen warriors stomped forward, eyes burning with blue flames, and hands wielding weapons of all kind.

But Aurelia could also feel the aftershocks coming from further away. She could tell that Deinmaar was battling some terrifying monster just from the miniature earthquakes that kept shaking the whole city, and that Leonidas was facing his own opponent on the other side of the city.

It was like they were separated on purpose.

Hildr gazed around, the sight dampening her delight at being able to go all out without fear. Clicking her tongue, she removed the Mask from her face, then tossed it to the side.

Flames swelled, then erupted, taking the form of a demonic werewolf, the Mask attached to its chest. Pulsing with Magicka, the demonic werewolf swells and howls, its body dripping with liquid flame and soon being coated in armored obsidian plates that made its sharp claws look even deadlier.

The Flame Spirit gazed around and growled in delight at the sight of so many opponents while devouring the surrounding Magicka hungrily to make its flames burn even hotter.

"'Relia." Hildr calls out softly, "I'm gonna do something stupid."

Aurelia lifts a brow while ignoring the ten foot tall demonic werewolf, and her eyes soon widen in understanding. A gentle smiles spreads across her cheeks, "Go ahead, I trust you."

Hildr smiles warmly, then closes her lone eye and breathes in.

The Atmoran army stops walking, and starts running, their stomps shaking the earth.

Freeing one hand, Aurelia breathes out softly, "Yol-Toor-Shul." The flaming Dragon Blade appears in her grasp as the surrounding temperature spikes, and starts climbing higher and higher.

Then skyrocketed when a deafening howl shakes the city.

Aurelia feels goosebumps cover her body, as if she was standing before a mighty Dragon Sage.

It was a pressure she knew well. Standing before an Apex Predator of immense might.

A pair of colossal crimson paws slam into the earth ahead of Aurelia, and the city streets turn into pool of glowing lava within seconds, and keep on expanding further with each passing moment.

Remaining tense, Aurelia watched the colossal wolf look around… Then lower its head to look down and beneath its belly.

A lone giant green eye stared at Aurelia, and the Dragonborn smiled warmly.

Hildr bared her sharp jaws in a terrifying grin, then lifted her head to stare at the approaching army. Her lone eye overflowed with pure, immense delight.

It was a gamble. A theory she had since she transformed back in Blackreach, and one she run by Kara and Lah in passing recently.

Her transformation required an immense amount of energy, which would in turn make her very hungry while in said form. But even if given sustenance, she would never be able to eat fast enough to satisfy the immense energy requirements.

And then she remembered a simple Restoration Spell, one in the Novice tier even. Ward Hunger, a simple Spell meant to help someone ignore the effects of hunger and make them feel as if they had a full meal.

By using it, she could ignore the mental effects of her growing hunger and not enter a feral state, but it won't stop her swiftly going weaker due to still present energy requirements.

With the simple Spell working, Hildr bares her jaws and cuts loose, unleashing a loud that expressed her immense delight.

And from that howl, a colossal expanding dome of blazing destruction spread forth, devastating the city and scorching the land black.

At least the charging Atmorans had more guts than Vulthuryol in the face of a giant flaming wolf pouncing on them.

Holding back a laugh, Aurelia swiftly joins the fray with the demonic werewolf in tow.

"Gretel will be so mad that she wasn't here to witness this…"

~~XXX~~

"Your swings lack conviction!"

Deinmaar staggers back from the clash, his arms and fingers feeling numb and shaking as the giant Ysgramor stomps forward, and unstoppable monster of pure, domineering might.

Never before did Deinmaar feel so overwhelmed and outclassed when it came to physical strength alone. It was his forte, his best, outclassing anyone and everyone with effortless ease.

And now, it was his turn to experience that terror. The terror of having an unstoppable Juggernaut walk towards him, through flames and lightning, through swings of a greatsword and deflecting them like it was but a fly striking at a giant.

"Atmorans aren't so weak!" Ysgramor bellows out, nostrils flaring like an enraged bull as he stomped close, the pitch black Wuuthrad hacking down like a guillotine blade.

Moving swiftly, Deinmaar dodges to the side, watching as that effortless swing leaves behind a deep ravine dozens of meters long. "Atmorans do not dodge!"

Enraged, Ysgramor bashed his shoulder into Deinmaar, creating an explosion of blinding plasma that didn't even burn the First Man's beard.

"Atmorans use arrows as toothpicks!" The giant bellows, voice so powerful that the very air vibrates in the wake of his voice.

"Atmorans use Spells to scratch their backs!" Another stomp. Another swing of Wuuthrad.

Deinmaar swings his greatsword to meet the blow and is nearly forced on his knees when faced with the overwhelming might.

Beneath his helmet, the man holding the title of Deinmaar grits his teeth.

Out of pain, out of shame, out of anger.

Before him stood everything he was not.

A man filled with conviction. A man who wanted something so badly he achieved it. A man who never gave up even when forced to run away.

Leonidas had told him about Ysgramor history. About his ancestor's accomplishments.

And Deinmaar found himself lacking.

What did he do his whole damned life?

The ground beneath him crumbles as he snarls. Ysgramor's eyes glow alight with approval as Wuuthrad trembles and is pushed up, allowing Deinmaar to fully straighten himself, albeit on shaky legs.

"What manner of Atmoran are you…" The First Man starts, looking at Deinmaar up and down, "To allow chains to weight you down?"

A kick to the chest, and entire streets turn to rubble. Deinmaar rolls to a stop, hacking out blood through hissed breaths of air, but his hands force him to stand up through it all.

Yet, Ysgramor's question rattles within his skull louder than a Dragon's roar.

"I've had chains bind me too!" The Bringer of Words hollers, his presence as heavy as a mountain as he stomps forward. Slow, steady, assured of victory. "Chain after fucking chain!"

"One for each loyal subject murdered! One for when my wonderful city was lit aflame! One when I was forced to run away like a coward! One when I lost my son at sea!"

Deinmaar stands up and breathes in, "And what did you do with them?"

Ysgramor laughs, "I came back and broke those fucking chains on the backs of those bastards!"

Deinmaar… Reels back, and breathes out.

Was it really so easy?

No, of course it wasn't. The chains are different, after all.

One for never truly pursuing the one he loves. One for never standing by her side until the very end.

One for each Dragon Priest he betrayed and killed.

One for each year he wallowed in misery instead of doing anything.

A distant explosion reaches his ears and snaps Deinmaar out of his downward spiral of thoughts.

His head turns towards the edges of the city, where a battle of terrifying Mages was unfolding. Flames against an encroaching tide of black and frost.

His fingers absentmindedly trace the runes on his chestplate. Deinmaar, they state.

Once, a name he proudly carried.

Now, it was a name he felt he wasn't honoring.

"You shouldn't be worrying about others." Ysgramor calls out, but doesn't take the opportunity to attack and instead just stops a few paces ahead of Deinmaar.

The shorter of the two Atmorans laughs and shakes his head, "I wasn't worrying about him." He corrects, voice wistful, "I was thinking about some words he once told me."

The First Man raises a bushy brow, "Oh?"

Softly, Deinmaar whispers those words, "It's not the armor, but the man wearing it."

It was who Leonidas had come looking for. Not a suit of armor. Not a weapon.

But someone he could trust. Someone who could protect the people.

A friend. A brother.

Those actions now appear in a different light to Deinmaar. Their encounter was the desperate plea of a man trying to find help.

"Fine words." Ysgramor nods, "You respect this friend of yours?"

Deinmaar laughs, "Friend? He is my brother." Warmth fills his chest. A burning determination fills his eyes. A new goal lights his path.

Ysgramor notices the change and grins, "Oh? What kind of man is he, to cause such a change within you?"

A greatsword is lifted and twirled effortlessly, "He likes messing around. He says jokes that only he understands and enjoys the confusion it all causes."

"He hates being alone with his own thoughts, or in general, so he makes sure to always keep his mind occupied with something."

"He hates feeling weak. He tries to carry everything on his shoulders, making sure those he loves feel no pressure, and he keeps a playful attitude to make sure they never worry."

"I am sure that, if he could, he'd gladly shoulder the weight of saving the world by himself if it kept everyone safe."

The First Man hums and uses his free hand to rub at his beard, "A foolish man." He states, and Deinmaar chuckles and nods, "But one I'd gladly give my back to, and offer a drink or two. Your respect is well placed."

Finally, Ysgramor moves Wuuthrad off his shoulders, "And what have you decided to do?"

Smiling beneath his helmet, the shorter Atmoran stands proud. Shoulder squared, eyes bright, head held high, "I'll wear the name Deinmaar."

A name with two meaning.

Guardian, which is the meaning he once used.

And finally, the one will now gladly bear.

"I will carry my brother's chains for him, and follow him to the ends of the world."

Keeper. The second meaning of Deinmaar.

He once was the Guardian of Law, of the people.

Now, he decides to be the Keeper of Chains.

Ysgramor raises a befuddled brow, "You are willing to carry another man's chains while also shouldering yours?" The First Man sounded genuinely baffled.

And beneath his helmet, Deinmaar grins like an idiot, "I'm sure my brother will break my chains for me." He laughs softly, "He tends to be very good at breaking things, after all!"

And that's when he moves.

Ysgramor's eyes barely have time to widen, and he barely has the time to move Wuuthrad's staff in front of his chest in a hasty block before the blow lands.

All of Saarthal feels it connect.

Buildings pop like balloons stuffed with too much air. The bricks of the roads turn to powder way before the sound of impact even flows past them.

The giant chains above rattle, and Ysgramor is sent hurling deep into the earth, and digging a massive ditch behind with his back.

Stunned but not fazed, the giant Atmoran stands and shrugs his shoulders- Only for a thrown greatsword to smash into Wuuthrad's staff, removing it from his grasp and sending both weapons flying away.

Lifting his gaze, the First Man stares at the approaching Deinmaar.

The former Dragon Priest reaches up and removes his helmet. Tossing it to the side, he undoes the clasps of his chestplate and lets it fall heavily on the ground, revealing his bare, muscular chest.

His gauntlets are next.

"As a man I greatly respect once said…" Rolling his shoulders, Deinmaar has his face split by a feral grin, "No more weapons."

"We fight like men now."

Ysgramor blinks, then throws his head back and laughs. Pure, genuine and proud laughter.

And as he laughs, his helmet and armor also hit the ground.

"Good! Good! That's how an Atmoran should be, my boy!" Enthusiastic and grinning maniacally, Ysgramor spreads his muscular arms to the side, "Now, come at me-"

The punch lands.

Saarthal is cracked in half.

The First Man's body is sent hurling back to his palace, and against the chain binding the sphere above the city.

And the first of many Chains shatters.

~~XXX~~

I gotta admit; This has to be the first time I've had a full Mage showdown.

Krosis doesn't count, as I just humiliated him. Hevnoraak… He died too fast to count, plus he was weak and pathetic as hell.

"You are a Mage of passing skill." Ahzidal praises, swinging his staff almost lazily to incinerate an approaching swarm of maddened creatures and the encroaching black tar spawning them.

"Thanks, I've been at it for just a few months." I lazily answer, which brings the ancient Enchanter to a momentary pause before he keeps swinging his cane. "It's high praise coming from the likes of you."

Ahzidal hums, waves of growing heat flowing out of him tirelessly, his form a constantly expanding white-hot sun, "I wonder… How do you know me? I do not believe there are books about me."

I shrug, "The knowledge I hoard could make Hermaeus Mora grovel at my feet and beg for even a sliver of it." Now this might be an empty boast, but who knows… "Plus, who wouldn't know about Ahzidal?"

"A skilled Nord Enchanter born in Saarthal. His magical prowess swiftly surpassed his instructors, and when he felt like he couldn't progress anymore among his kind, he left his wife and child behind to go and further develop his studies among the Elves."

I didn't miss the small tightening of his fist around his cane when I mentioned his late family.

Ahzidal hums, "You know your history." He praises, though it was empty, "Then you know what I found when I came back?"

I nod even as more demented and malformed beasts pounced forth, the black tar forcing his domain of heat to shrink further and further.

"Snow Elves burned the city to the ground. Few survived. Your family wasn't among them." He nods and flares his nostrils, "You then set off on a path of revenge, which was fulfilled when Ysgramor came back, and you offered him and his army your services."

And that's where everything diverges. Ahzidal doesn't go on his path afterward. He doesn't lust for more knowledge and power, he doesn't join the Dragon Cult to hoard their Dragon Runes, and subsequently doesn't go mad when he approaches Hermaeus Mora for more knowledge and gets sealed away in turn.

"So… What's all this about?" I question, waving towards the Eye of Magnus chained above us.

Ahzidal doesn't answer instantly, instead he waves his staff and sends forth a colossal fireball my way.

Said fireball turns into embers when a Draconian Howl pierces through it and smashes into a conjured Ward right in front of Ahzidal's face.

The Spell screeches against the dense, nigh-perfect Ward before the protective Spell is tilted to the side, allowing the projectile to slide off and away.

"This? It is but my revenge being enacted." The old man answers with a shrug of his shoulders, and if I could, I'd frown in confusion.

What does he mean by that?

The horde of demented beasts suddenly comes to a halt, paws and jaws and mangled hands swiftly being aimed towards Ahzidal as thousands of Draconian Howls sparkle to life from them.

The ancient Mage just stabs his cane into the earth, cratering and shifting the landscape, causing the beasts to stumble and miss all of their shots, sending destruction in random directions.

"Do you know the effects sealing that thing is having on the outside world?" I question Ahzidal, but he doesn't answer. He just smiles.

Not a fake smile, or empty one. A genuine, delighted one.

He knows. He has done it on purpose, then. That's his goal.

Why? Why cripple all Races when it comes to their Magical development?

I turn my head towards the chains to further study them. Mainly, the glowing engravings on them.

Daedric Runes, Ayleids ancient Runes, Altmer scripts, some form of unique metal created by the Dwemer, Dragon Runes… He has used everything he learned and knows to make these chains.

I've seen and heard of each of these things through the Folium Discognitum. Each one of these are the foundation of a whole Race.

This is his revenge. Think, Leo. Think! What does he mean by that?

The answer is right in front of my eyes, but my tired mind fails to latch onto it as it slips away from my fingertips again and again.

I sniff and turn away from the chains and stomp forward, not willing to play around anymore. I've learned my lesson with Vulthuryol, and I won't repeat that mistake again.

The black tar swells into a tsunami of howling faces and hungry maws, malevolent eyes shining with madness peeking at Ahzidal from those abyssal waters.

The old man narrows his eyes and flicks his staff, the dome of scorching heat swelling to meat the damned waters- Only for me to just aim my palm towards him and let loose with my Frost Magic.

The screeching glacial winds swiftly drop the temperature as soon as they manifest in a colossal beam that dwarfs Ahzidal's sun in scope and intensity, forcing the old man back as his eyes widen in surprise.

A blazing Original Rune sparkles to life at the bottom of his cane, which he aims my way. But instead of launching the Spell through it, I watch him create a different Original Rune right in front of the previous one.

This one is larger, more powerful, but also blue. Meaning that it is Lightning Magic.

A colossal beam of heat erupts out of the first Original Rune, smashes into the second one from behind, then erupts from the front as a blinding beam of pure plasma that carves through my waves of frost and abyssal waters with ease.

Huh… That's new. I guess that is how Original Runes are meant to be used.

One use is to create Arrays, another for Scrolls, and one to fuse two Spells together. I never thought about fusing two Original Runes together, or launching a Spell through an Original Rune and see what happens.

A perfect fusion of two Spells, which is usually impossible to achieve. Synchrony between elements is one thing, but uniting two Spells is a whole different matter.

Let's test that out!

A thunderous Original Rune booms into existence in front of me, swelling to the size of a house than further in a matter of moment.

Ahzidal's gaze goes from shocked to horrified when a second blinding white Original Rune appears in front of the previous one.

A Vasavi Shakti erupts into existence with a violent thunderclap that shakes the ruined landscape, then enters and passes through the Original Rune of my beloved Draconian Howl.

The ensuing fusion is akin to a railgun.

The whole pocket dimension flashes black and white. Everything ahead of my fused Spell is erased from existence.

And by everything, I mean that literally.

A colossal pitch black hole is punched clean through the pocket dimension, allowing me to gaze within the Void that makes up the space between the planes of existence.

I hum and reach up to rub at my mask's chin. Did that kill Ahzidal? No, it couldn't have.

Still, I know that my Draconian Howl can break things easily… But a damn pocket dimension wasn't among the things I thought I could break.

I perk up when the hole into the Void starts repairing itself, the massive chain closest to me pulsing and glowing, clearly providing the immense Magicka needed for the repair process.

I raise a hand and point a finger towards the glowing chain, ready to shatter it, but I pause at the sound of footsteps. My gaze turns back to the hole in Void, from where Ahzidal strides out at a calm pace.

His left arm is gone, and his whole body is covered in horrifying burns. Which all disappear in a flash of Restoration Magic, his missing arm also regrowing and coming back in a flash.

Yeah, killing a Mage with access to infinite Magicka is surely to be difficult… Well, I do have access to said infinite Magicka myself. I was just afraid that any excessive Spell could cause damage to the outside world.

"I underestimated you." Ahzidal dusts off his tattered and broken cloak with a heavy frown on his face, "I won't do so again."

I shrug, "Doesn't matter. You can't stop me from destroying the chains."

He blinks, then sneers, "You fool. Those chains cannot be broken-"

The whole of Saarthal quakes, and I flip my head to stare at the portion of the city right below the Eye of Magnus, where I believe Deinmaar is.

I can see Hildr in her wolf form into the distance, having turned the landscape into a roaring and brilliant inferno filled with normal flames and Sunfire, showing that she is with Aurelia.

But whatever happened with Deinmaar made the whole city crack apart.

Something was launched with such power and speed that it split the domain in half.

And the chain attached to the bottom of the Eye of Magnus explodes in brilliant shards.

I stare at the sight as the Eye of Magnus jumps in the air, its exterior glowing with greater brilliance, as if rejuvenated.

I turn back towards Ahzidal and jab a thumb towards the now destroyed chain, "You were saying?"

His eyes are wide and filled with growing horror, "My lord..."

'Lord'? Does he fucking mean…?!

Clenching his teeth, the old man marches forward, but a tidal wave of abyssal waters gets in his way, "Move, you damnable mongrel!"

I snort, "Make me, pal." With a flex of my Magicka, I stop holding back and abuse the benefit of being so close to the Eye of Magnus.

Colossal hands and malformed beast surge out of the black tar in the hundreds as the black tide expands further and further without stop. Like so, I swiftly encircle Ahzidal, surrounding him on all sides.

His usual calm composure until now finally broke. He was alarmed, worried and desperate. He didn't want us to free the Eye, perhaps because he can't seal it again once the seal is undone.

Which means… That he didn't do this with his own capabilities. They helped, but even with his impressive skill, sealing such an Artifact shouldn't be possible.

His revenge… Despite hating the Elves, he trained under them after losing his family until Ysgramor came back.

I stare at the desperate old man, my form hidden by the growing army of demented beasts screeching and howling as they charged within his blazing and shrinking domain, forcing him into a more desperate fight.

He can't waste time with bigger, concentrated Spells lest he gets attacked from behind or a random blind spot. And he knows he can't expand his blazing domain carelessly, as I could also attack him from below.

Before me is a powerful mage, yes… But not a terrifying existence who went mad for more knowledge and hoarded immense power since the age of Ysgramor.

He never joined Hermaeus Mora. I can tell.

No… He joined someone else. Someone that would thrive from his revenge.

Someone that could help him seal the Eye.

With a growl, Ahzidal's eyes change. They turn a glowing, burning gold and gain slitted pupils, and his flames swell and roar, turning a burning and cursed crimson color.

These new flames washed away my abyssal waters and beasts like they were nothing, burning through Magicka itself as they expanded and swelled further.

"You are Mehrunes Dagon's Champion, aren't you?"

Ahzidal snarls and swings his staff, his cursed crimson flames destroying the surroundings as he advances with a desperate gait.

Mehrunes Dagon, the Prince of Destruction, but also of Energy. Of Change.

He'd be the only one capable of helping Ahzidal seal the Eye of Magnus, and also the only that would enjoy the consequences of doing such a thing.

He caused Change. A change that kept happening across thousands of years. The slow but horrible crippling of Magical talent across the whole of Nirn, and all of the Races.

This caused Destruction. It probably was also one of the reasons Ayleids Empire fell during the First Era and their race nearly went extinct.

Plus, it caused other types of Destruction. Destruction of knowledge, of legacies, of talent, of types of Magic.

This is Ahzidal's revenge. Crippling the one thing the Elves shine in; Magic itself.

Even if it dragged down his own kind, he still went through with it.

A part of me wonders if I should even be mad about this. Thinking about it, I wonder if Tiber Septim's Empire would have been born if Ahzidal did not seal the Eye.

If so, would it have fallen from the war decades ago? Would the Thalmor have destroyed the White-Gold Tower?

So many things could have been prevented due to the Eye being sealed. So many possible what if's…

"To think that you'd drag Ysgramor into this idiotic revenge of yours." I sigh and step forward while the abyssal waters retract.

The Snow Elves are no more, yet Ahzidal wasn't satisfied. He truly fits his name.

Embittered destroyer indeed.

The old man snarls, "You know nothing!"

I shrug, "Maybe." Then, my wave my hand to the side. Ahzidal fails to react in time a giant Draconian Howl booms through the air, and smashes through the closest glowing chain to us.

Two down, three more to go.

The Eye of Magnus now audibly rumbles, and Ahzidal's eyes shrink out of pure, burning hot madness.

His bellow of fury is further accompanied by the explosive popping and crackling of his deep crimson flames as he pounces at me.

But I just step forward as my Juggernaut armor covers my body.

My hand reaches out and snatches his throat out of the air, ignoring his burning flames as I slam him down onto the ground.

Had it been the previous me, I'd have struggled a lot against Ahzidal, but he isn't a fighting mage. He is an Enchanter, and that hasn't changed even after all of these years.

A flex of my Magicka unleashes forth a blast of Frost Magic that drown out his enhanced flames, and his struggles die down as his body is caked in layers of frost and snow.

"You didn't go to Hermaues Mora for more knowledge, but went with Mehrunes Dagon instead." My grip around his throat tightens, "Why drag everyone down in your path of revenge? Couldn't you let them move on?"

Ahzidal sneers, "Move on?" His teeth clatter as he lets out a raspy, cruel laugh, "Sovngarde gives access to those who die in battle, not those who die of old age."

His shaking hands reach up to grasp my wrist, but his flames die out before they can even fight back against my frost, "My Lord and my brothers and sisters stood at the top. With my Enchantments, they were the strongest in existence…"

"Who could kill them in battle?"

...He is right. They were so strong that they couldn't fall and gain their eternal deserved rest in Sovngarde and watch the next generations of warriors enter its halls.

"And so you drag them here?"

His chapped lips spread into a twisted, desperate smile, "They are dying a warrior's death, aren't they?" His laughter end in a wheeze when I squeeze his throat.

Yet, he keeps talking, "I tried… I really did. I tried to move on, to forget my rage, my revenge, and move on with my Lord and brothers and sisters… But I couldn't!"

"And that's when the voices came, whispering promises of knowledge, of power, within my mind… Oh, they were so alluring…"

His smile spreads like a chasm across his face, growing more twisted. More insane. "I had this itch, one I watched to scratch so badly… Doing it would feel so good, but for each scratch, I'd lose more and more things that make me, me…"

My hand squeezes his neck once more, "And so you went to Mehrunes Dagon?"

Ahzidal shakes his head, "Oh, no… He came to me!" His grip around my wrists grows tighter, the skin on his fingers freezing off together with his nails. "He made me an offer. A promise."

His demented smile grows fanatical, "Once they are all gone… I will lead the Deadlands armies across Nirn, and wipe out all Elves from existence!"

This absolutely insane fool… "You honestly think you'll win?"

He cackles, the sound of his broken laughter covering the distant sounds of battle, "You don't understand, do you?"

"The talent and capabilities of each mage across Nirn will grow worse with each passing year that damnable thing remains bound and chained up."

"Until, finally… Even the mighty Elves will struggle to conjure even a simple fireball!"

As I thought… Kara's testimony proves this. She watched each generation of mages since she was sealed away grow worse and worse.

"I just need to break your neck, and those chains." I lift him high in the air, but he just smiles… And that smile brings me to a pause.

I stare at him, then flick my gaze towards the Eye of Magnus. Mainly its exterior and the chains binding it.

Aetherial Fragments, like the Great Welkynd stones… Which, if used right, can be used to open Oblivion Gates.

In the game, one was opened in Skyrim through this method, bypassing Martin's sacrifice.

"You twisted fuck…"

If he lives, he'll get to have an ability like mine, gaining access to Mehrunes Dagon's Daedric Realm and summoning hordes of his soldiers.

If he dies, he will be a sacrifice that, with the Eye of Magnus itself will be used to fuel the creation of a possible gargantuan Oblivion Gate that cannot be closed.

"You cannot win…" Ahzidal rasps out a cruel laugh, "And the Gods won't be able to help you here…"

My grip around his throat tightens until he starts gasping for air.

"The Gods? Helping me?" I laugh softly as his crazed eyes meet mine, "Oh no, you got it all wrong…"

"They need to help Mehrunes Dagon. Not me."

I pull him close, my voice a low growl as his skin starts cracking and falling apart due to the spreading frost. "I know you are listening, you fuck."

"At least have the guts to stand before me, Lehkelogah."

Those words cause Reality to shudder, the slowly repairing hole in the Void suddenly gaining a burning light within it.

And from it, four pair of colossal hands reach out to grasp the edge of the repairing dimension, then pull it apart to open that hole further.

Slowly, the immense avatar of Mehrunes Dagon steps within Saarthal.

His presence brings along catastrophic levels of heat, with the land below his feet turning into pools of bubbling magma.

His glowing eyes flick down to stare at me, and I move the gasping Ahzidal out of the way so to fully face the giant avatar.

"You…" Mehrunes Dagon starts, voice deep and powerful, causing the very air to boom, "How do you know that name-"

"Shut the fuck up."

The Daedric Prince stills, baffled at my sheer daring.

"What we are going to do right now is very, very fucking simple." I raise Ahzidal higher and shake him like he is a piece of dirty laundry, "You stop any plotting going on right now. You will stop trying to create Oblivion Gates for as long as I exist…"

Mehrunes Dagon's glowing eyes narrow, and a snarl pulls at his lips.

Yet my next words make the Daedric Prince look at me in horror.

"Or I will make sure that every single fucking God and Daedric Prince out there will know your full Nymic."

A.N. For those wondering, a Nymic is basically a 'True Name' that defines the existence of Daedra and Daedric Princes alike.

Through their use, one can make affect a Daedric Prince and make them do 'something'. Even banish them from a Realm.

Leo wants to catch nappy time so badly that he willing to crash out on the Daedric Prince of Destruction himself.

Hope y'all enjoyed this chappy!

Toodles!

I, Draugr chapter 47

Kara's awakening is like causing a loud ruckus high up in the snowy mountains.

First, nothing. Then the avalanche makes itself known and threatens to sweep your ass along.

In this case, the avalanche swept the whole College without giving it a chance to resist.

For all of her playful personality, Kara is a woman of purpose and pure management skill.

Savos Aren swiftly stepped down as the Archmage of the College and was appointed as her assistant by Kara herself, and all the other Masters were swiftly gifted a book tailored for their skills.

Lah's presence quelled any possible questions or even complaints there might have been, especially when Kara announced that she'd pay the Holds a visit so to find possible students to recruit for the College.

She is like a storm, but one of change. Skyrim is her home, and she instantly showed how hard she was going to work in order to protect it, doing everything while she is still sick and recovering from her recent awakening.

Having her around instantly relieved a great deal of my worries, and it makes me think that Kara is doing it on purpose. Either as a way to repay me for my help in reuniting her and Lah, or just because.

Hence, since her return two days ago, the College has been constantly active and full of movement unlike the past few months.

It has been… Calming, so far. Relaxing, even. It allowed the others to finally calm down for a while after all the excitement of the recent days.

I hum, my gaze flying past the words on the Folium Discognitum while the clawed fingers of my free hand brushed through Gretel's messy hair as she napped on my lap with her head against my chest.

While in front of me the ladies are training under the watchful eye of Deinmaar, who sometimes coaches them both. Mostly Aurelia, since the two wield the same kind of weapon and have a similar fighting style.

I flick my gaze upward momentarily when another clash causes the training room to shake. Dawnbreaker slams against a white-hot flaming blade coating a slab of cracked obsidian dripping with lava, and wielding it is an equally armored knight.

Clad in roaring explosive flames and that pitch black slag, Hildr wielded a one-handed sword and used her Magic, plus Reinforcement, to work around Aurelia's pure physical might.

Using Smoke Magic to cut sight, using Fire Magic to create explosions so to drive off the blade backed by way too much strength. So on and so forth, all because Hildr is very creative in her methods.

The air in the room was also visibly twisting and warping due to Hildr subtly raising the heat through the training match, leaving Aurelia's face drenched in sweat, though it barely affected her that much.

It affected me more than her. I am trying to study here, but instead I am just… Staring. Yeah.

"I am starting to hate Fire Magic." Aurelia grumbles, letting out a loud huff while twirling Dawnbreaker, "With a passion."

Hildr tilts her head, her face covered by Rahgot's glowing mask, her long hair tied in a hair ponytail and cloaked in bright flames, "Aren't you a Fire Mage yourself?"

"I am a Holy Fire Mage!" The Dragonborn blows a raspberry at Hildr, who laughs at the pale beauty. "Ugh… Rahgot was nowhere near this level, I swear…"

From the side, Deinmaar nods in agreement, "He was never the best at Magic." The Atmoran states, gaze slightly distant, "He excelled more with the Thu'um."

Aurelia winces slightly at that, "Yeah, his Unrelenting Force Shout flattened a great deal of land outside Riften…"

Hildr whistles, her armor of obsidian and flames falling apart and dispersing, revealing her lovely form beneath, "His Mask is good, but it does take a bit of Magicka to keep it running." She states, removing the Artifact from her face, "Now I can handle it, but if it was when I first got it then I'd have barely been able to keep it active for five minutes."

"Dragon Priest Masks do tend to require quite a bit of Magicka to use." The former Dragon Priest points out, "In fact, even with my reserves, I still wouldn't be able to use Konahriik's Mask."

I perk up at that, "Seriously?" Deinmaar's red eyes flick towards me as he nods, "What the hell does that Mask even do?"

At that, the giant falters slightly, his face going slightly pale, "Ah, that…" He coughs into his fist to recover his composure, "When one becomes a Dragon Priest, they do a ritual where they place a part of themselves within a certain Mask."

"And that Mask is only worn by the High Priest, who always inherits the name 'Konahriik', which means Warlord."

"A 'Konahriik' is only appointed by Alduin himself. And as far as I am aware, only three people wielded that title before the Konahriik I know of."

So they must be some obscenely powerful individuals that gain the recognition of the World Eater himself, huh?

That's interesting.

"And what the Mask does is… It conjures phantoms of each Dragon Priest that has ever existed and has gone through the ritual."

Aurelia and Hildr audibly hiss at that, faces blanching in pure horror while I whistle at the reveal. That's… A literal pocket army of some of the strongest individuals in history.

It also means that the previous High Priests are also summoned by the Mask. Definitely much better than in the game.

Though, I believe that the Konahriik Mask in the game also had a small chance of summoning a Dragon Priest phantom, aside from its healing power.

Still, I wonder why Krosis reacted so badly when I brought Konahriik up. Had she already been declared a traitor and somehow disposed off by Alduin at the time, so she became a sort of taboo?

I am pulled out of my thoughts when the door to the training room opens, revealing Kara's minute form. She was still quite pale, but the bags under her eyes had disappeared by quite a bit. Another week or two and she should be back to normal.

"Good morning, boys and girls." The daughter of Shalidor yawns out, stretching her back and arms as she walks in, visibly looking like she just walked out of bed.

Hell, she is even wearing a white gown over her body, though what attract my gaze is Lah.

Or at least, his Astral Projection. Which is himself, but small enough that he can laze on top of Kara's head like a fat cat.

The mightiest Great Sage, some say.

A chorus of 'Good morning' ring out as we all greet the sleepy Archmage, who rubs her eyes a few times before inspecting the room, "What are you all training for?"

Aurelia sheathes Dawnbreaker with a smile and moves to support the woman, who refuses to just sit down and rest and instead keeps moving around.

Even Lah tried to make her rest, but Kara just glared at him and the big guy went quiet and audibly whimpered.

"I was helping Hildr test out Rahgot's Mask." The pale beauty informs Kara, who hums sleepily as she is led to the bench me and Gretel are on.

At that, Lah stirs from his spot within Kara's wild hair, his small Dragon head popping up out of the curls, "I believe it was a suit of flaming armor, yes?"

Hildr nods, twirling the Mask in her grasp with a satisfied smile, "Yes. It makes having learned swordsmanship in my youth worth it."

I tilt my head at that, "I didn't even know you knew how to wield a sword."

Her lone eye throws a flat stare my way, "We are in Skyrim. You either learn how to wield a weapon, or how to throw a punch. Or both." Yeah, that's my bad. It was a stupid question.

Kara yawns again from beside me before a warm smile spreads across her face at the sight of Gretel napping on my lap, "So, when are you folks going to Saarthal?"

I shrug softly at her question, "Soon. Probably later today or tomorrow." I drawl out, "While I am still nervous about what we'll find there, I know we can handle it." Especially since I'll have Deinmaar and Aurelia with me. Not that Hildr is to be underestimated.

"Me and Lah will be here in case you need support, so don't worry too much." Kara reassures with a pat on my shoulder, making me chuckle softly.

Having her and Lah on my side really dashed away a great deal of worries I had for the future.

"Speaking off…" Deinmaar suddenly speaks up, and turns his attention towards Lah's Astral Projection, "Sage Lah, do you perhaps know how many Dragons Alduin has currently under his rule?"

The Great Sage perks up, then tilts his head in thought, "Roughly three hundred or so, last time I checked. A dozen of them were Sages."

Deinmaar crosses his arms with a hum, "Not too bad, but not too great either." The good thing is that we still have time on our side. He is too weak to bring back Great Sages and keeping them under his control.

Plus, his recent defeat to us most definitely is still causing him problems.

"The majority of Dragon corpses are buried beneath Skyrim's soil and beneath its waters." Lah rumbles out, closing his eyes and cuddling himself deeper into Kara's curly hair, "My presence here will be deterrent enough for Alduin. It shall keep him from bringing back thousands of Dragons."

I hum and turns towards the Dragon, "I sense a 'But' coming."

The Great Sage nods, "Once his strength reaches a certain point, he won't need to be close to the corpses to bring them back." He reveals, sending visible chills down the spines of the others, "His Thu'Um will reach across Mundus itself to bring his kin back."

"The moment Alduin reaches my levels of power is the moment the true World Eater shall reveal himself."

I flex the hand holding the book, causing my frozen bones to audibly crack, "Hence why going to Saarthal is important. We need to undo what crippled all the Mages across the world."

So that, hopefully, they can offer a greater fighting chance against what is to come.

A part of me does not wish to have the Thalmor gain this boon, but honestly? If they start any bullshit, I'll just go and take a trip to their land and turn it into a frozen landscape.

"Yeah, we need a lot of Restoration Mages." Kara drawls out, fighting back another yawn as she rubs her with her fingers, "I'll work hard to spread simple Healing Spells. A group of capable Healers in each Hold is a must."

Kara is handling the return of Magic, while Julspaan is handling the return of the Thu'um.

Skyrim will soon slowly return to being that horrifying powerhouse it used to be during the Merethic Era.

"You could ask the Emperor for assistance too. He is in still in Whiterun, I believe." Aurelia states, and I pause at that.

"The Emperor is in Whiterun…?" Aurelia flinches, then gives me an adorable smile.

"Sorry, I kept it hidden from you on purpose."

I gasp. It is a very horrified, and hurt gasp. "How could you..."

Hildr snorts, "Jarl Balgruuf basically begged us to keep it a secret."

"You betrayed me too!?"

Aurelia's lips twitch as she fights back a smile, "Leo, we can't have you go and start some kind of national incident just because you wanted to amuse yourself."

"Bah, body-slamming the Emperor through a table ain't a national incident!"

Kara audibly cackles at my words.

"Brother…" Deinmaar asks, nearly gaping at me, "Would you have truly done that?"

"Without an ounce of hesitation." Is my instantaneous answer.

Hildr snorts again and gives Deinmaar a look, "Told ya we had to keep it a secret."

Another horrified gasp flows out of me at the reveal of Deinmaar- "Yeah, I can always expect Deinmaar to protect others from me."

"I shouldn't have to, brother…"

"I'm keeping your life interesting, ain't I?" The giant Atmoran can only sigh and palm his face just to hide his grin.

"By the Eight, I adore you guys…" Kara laughs, leaning back against the wall with a low hum and satisfied smile, "Watcha reading there, by the way?"

I look at the Daedric Book, where lines of words moved so they were right in front of my gaze, and were always what I wanted to read. After all this time, I truly believe that Sheogorath gifted me this book and removed the Monkey Paw aspect of it.

Having this drove others to insanity. And while I am sure I am going insane little by little, I know it isn't because of the book.

"I am trying to reverse engineer your pops famed 'Shalidor's Mirror'." I inform her, bring Kara to a pause.

I half expected her to blow up, but instead she narrows her eyes in confusion, "Shalidor's Mirror… Is it the Ward that reflects Spells?" I nod, slowly. She sniffs, "Right, can't ever tell with his shitty Spell names…"

I tilt my head at that, "...What do you mean?"

Lah is the one who answers, and his voice sounded like he was holding back his laughter, "Shalidor would always place his name within his Spells. Shalidor's Fireball, Shalidor's Healing, so on and so forth."

I snap the book shut and hold it against my forehead while Hildr is looking downright horrified at the reveal.

The creator of the College of Winterhold gave his Spells absolutely cringe names. Fascinating.

"Shitty names aside…" Kara snorts, "Why do you wanna learn that Spell?"

I shrug again, "It's powerful, but I also wish to turn it into an Array that can be placed around each Hold."

Skyrim is brimming with Magicka, so placing powerful Arrays around each Hold is entirely possible, and they can sustain themselves off the Magicka naturally present in the atmosphere.

Thing is, I want the Arrays to be very, very powerful and nigh-impenetrable. Boosting, healing, protection, all the good stuff in one package.

Lah sits up on Kara's head at my words, his golden eyes glowing with interest, "A fascinating idea indeed… Though it won't help against the Thu'um, since it is not Magic."

I nod in agreement, "Hence why I want to reverse engineer it and change it." A single Dragon Soul should be more than enough, I believe. "Turn it into an Array that can protect against both."

Lah hums, clearly very fascinated and interested to the idea, "This used to be one of our old projects, was it not? Finding a way to protect against the Thu'um with Magic." He questions, turning his gaze down to his lover, who perks up with a warm smile on her tired face.

"Yeah…" Kara sighs out, visibly nostalgic as Lah winces softly, guilt filling his gaze, "I think we put it aside for… What was it again?"

"Using Wards for physical harm, I believe."

Okay, what?

"Oh, yeah!" Kara perks up, a feral grin on her face, "I enjoyed beating the shit outta that two-bit Mage with a hammer-shaped Ward!"

She pauses when she notices our stares, "What? He said I couldn't do it, so I did. And broke his knee-caps with the fuckin' thing."

I sigh and raise my hand towards her, and Kara swiftly grins and gives me a high-five, "I am so happy to have you around…" I nearly sob, making her cackle as Lah huffs out in amusement.

Fighting back against another yawn, Kara shakes her head, "Right, me and my hubby decided on something." She starts, "Once the whole Saarthal thing is over and done with? You folks are becoming our students. For both Magicka and the Thu'um."

Hildr and Aurelia perk up at that, with Hildr looking downright ecstatic at the reveal, her lone eye glowing with happiness.

Deinmaar instead tilts his head in confusion, "I am not much of a Mage though…" He points out, earning a faint chuckle from the Great Sage chilling on Kara's head.

"I shall still try, but I will mostly focus on your Thu'um. Is it still as mighty as it used to be in the past, or have the years dulled it?" Oh right, Deinmaar never used the Thu'um in our fight. Neither against me, nor against Alduin.

"I guess I do need some training myself…" Deinmaar sighs out with a smile, earning a nod of approval from the Great Sage.

Now I really want to see what Deinmaar at his most powerful is capable off… Though it is best not to experience that anywhere near civilization.

"I will have to do something else right after Saarthal, though…" I muse aloud, tapping the Daedric Book on my leg in though.

Aurelia perks up at that, "Is it that… Serana thing?" I nod, and give her a playful kick when she throws a cute pout and glare my way, trying and failing to act jealous.

"Who is that?" Kara questions, and I hum. How much should I reveal about her past?

"A vampire that was sealed away with an Elder Scroll during the early Second Era." I start, making Lah perk up at the mention of the Elder Scroll, "Her father is also a Vampire. Powerful and crazy one at that, and he has a group of vampires hiding away in a castle slightly north of Solitude, far into the waters."

The Great Sage narrows his gaze towards me, "Why does a Vampire desire an Elder Scroll?"

"Because of Auri-El's Bow." Lah instantly sits up on Kara's head.

"Father's Divine Artifact!?" The Great Sage growls out, "A filthy maggot of Molag Bar dares to covet it?!"

Kara has to reach up and pull Lah in her embrace to quell his rising rage. Though he also did confirm that Auri-El and Akatosh are the same being.

Guess it is probably the same thing as the Greeks and Romans. Same Gods, different civilization, different names.

"He wishes to acquire it, drench its arrows in the blood of a Pure Vampire, and shoot them at the Sun so to create eternal night." Lah's growl shows just how furious he is at the prospect of having an impure being sully the Artifact of his Father.

Hell, he might even go and pay Harkon a visit himself and leave behind another tunnel to Blackreach.

"Do we need the Elder Scroll to find Father's bow?" Lah questions, and I shake my head, surprising and delighting him at the same time.

"There is a lost Snow Elf civilization to the west of Skyrim, far into the snowy mountains." I point out, and Deinmaar perks up too, "There is a temple there, guarded by a Snow Elf Vampire who created the whole 'prophecy' that made the Vampires about this whole 'covering the Sun' thing."

Lah flares his nostrils, "I will come with you, so that I can have words with that filth." I chuckle and give the Great Sage a thumbs up, before perking up when I remember about the existence of another Artifact within the Forgotten Vale.

"Right, Auri-El's Shield should also be there?" I muse aloud. In the game, the player will find a Falmer wielding the Shield in a secluded spot. Easy to miss.

It was actually quite powerful too, I think? Able to absorb and return damage, if I remember right.

The Great Sage hums softly, "It is possible that Father's armor and sword are there too, in fact." He points out, mostly to himself, before shaking his head and giving me a grateful look, "You have my thanks for making me aware of this."

I wave off his thanks with a chuckle, "I'm just removing mild concerns so that we can focus on the Dragons."

Kara snorts, "I really want to know how you know all this stuff." She states, then throws me a look, "Any other super powerful artifact that you know the location off?" She teases with a grin.

Said grin falters when I nod without shame a second later. "I know where the Oghma Infinium is."

Absolute silence.

Hildr, Lah and Kara are all gaping at me.

And then they are on me, shaking me wildly – or biting and pulling at my hood while flapping their wings, when it comes to Lah – and waking up poor Gretel in the process, "You know where the book of Xarxes is!? The book written by the 'Ageless One'?!"

I cackle at their sheer panic, desire and hysteria, then notice that Aurelia is very confused, so… "Xarxes is the Elven variant of Arkay, my dear!" I point out.

And a second later she is shaking me harder than all the others, and my cackles grow even louder.

"Oh man, you're gonna be so mad when you learn where it is…" I state through my laughter while staring at Kara, who grows pale and fearful.

"Where is it…?"

I hold back another cackle as I answer, "Oh, just north of here, and west of The Chill. Buried in a large box on a small island."

Kara and Lah nearly start sobbing on the spot while Hildr is unresponsive. Poor cutie, she broke.

"What did I miss…?" Gretel questions as she yawns in her small hand, looking around with sleepy eyes as she does so.

I go to answer, but someone beats me to it, "Daggah." I pause. We all do. Then we all look to my right.

And there, sitting right beside me, is Poopdaggah. Scratching his back using my Folium Discognitum.

Surprisingly enough, Lah is the one to snap.

"How the fuck did he get here without me noticing…?"

Poopdaggah's wise answer is a very loud and long fart.

It took Kara, Aurelia and Deinmaar to stop Lah from tearing the Riekling apart.

….

"I found it."

My feet come to a stop, the snow crunching below my boots as I stare at the glowing white valley.

Lah flaps his wings, clearing away the snow that had gathered around the old excavation site, which was abandoned around the time the Falmer showed themselves in Winterhold.

Now that all resources are being put in the elevator to Blackreach, this site has mostly been forgotten. Not that they had gone that deep.

"Saarthal is below us, brother?" Deinmaar questions, gazing around the pit that is the old excavation site.

"Yeah…" I answer, stretching my Mind's Eye as wide and as deep as possible, until I find it. Or at least, I find something. "You sense it too, Lah?"

The Great Sage hums, golden eyes out of focus, "Indeed… That is a Pocket Dimension."

Below me, roughly two dozen meters deep underground, is a massive sphere of absolutely nothing.

I know it's there. I know it's massive. My Mind's Eye just can't penetrate within it.

A Pocket Dimension… The only one I know that can do such a thing is Shalidor. Perhaps Kara can too, but she hasn't bothered to have one for herself.

"It is an enormous one, at that." Lah muses softly, "Are you sure you still wish to go? A mage of terrifying capabilities might be waiting for you."

I sigh softly, "We have to, unfortunately." I am tired. I really, really want to sleep. I want to sleep so badly.

"They'll be alright, love." Kara reassures, reaching down to pat Lah's scales from her spot on his head, "We'll be here just in case, after all."

Lah relents and nods, "Then best of luck, my friends."

I breathe in, then step forward so to look down the excavation site. My right hand stretches out, and space warps and whines as a miniature star rumbles to life within my palm.

Since I've evolved, my Draconian Howl has become truly horrifying. So might as well use it to make a tunnel down to Saarthal.

The valley rumbles as a sonic-boom blooms forth, a localized earthquake shaking below my feet as the Spell hammers into the earth and digs deep below.

I freeze the tunnel created so to not let it collapse, then use another Draconian Howl so to finally reach the wall of Nothing I feel with my Mind's Eye.

Once done, I let my arm fall by my side and turn to look at the group. Deinmaar, Hildr and Aurelia.

Gretel is with Poopdaggah back at the College so that they are safe, as Poopdaggah is sort-of acting as her bodyguard. A very sneaky and ugly bodyguard.

"Everyone ready?" I ask, receiving tense but eager nods in turn. Aurelia and Hildr are clearly very happy that they'll soon help me take a much needed rest.

Once that is done, I'll spend plenty of time with them. As is right.

"Alright then…" I turn towards Kara, who is looking much better compared to yesterday, and give her a thumb's up, "We'll be going then!"

She smiles and waves at us as we descend into the excavation site, and into the frozen tunnel I dug into the earth.

The walk is quiet, but also tense, as we do not know what we'll be facing. But it is also something that we are doing for me, and for a Daedric Prince.

Deinmaar is mostly tense because this used to be the home his people built when they landed in Skyrim. I guess he wishes to learn more about the culture of his people.

And soon, we reach it. The wall of Nothing. A wall of darkness that did not shift, did not move nor reflect light. It just remained there.

Slowly, I reach out with my hand and watch it phase through the darkness. "Looks like we can walk through…" I turn my head towards Aurelia and Hildr, "Hold each other, just in case we get separated."

They nod and hold each other's hands as I step forward with Deinmaar, then walk through the wall of darkness without a second of hesitation.

Darkness turns into radiant light in a split second, forcing me to pause and… Take in the city around me.

The still standing city. Tall buildings, long roads, no sight of ruins or the effects of time on a city that was slaughtered to the last.

Deinmaar is nowhere to be seen as I stand in the empty street by myself, telling me that we've been separated, so I-…

I feel my hands go slack as I stare up, at the colossal object floating above the city, bound in massive chains that disappear into space itself.

The Eye of Magnus. It floated there, above me, nearly as tall as a mountain, with ancient glowing golden runes inscribed on it.

Gargantuan amounts of jade-colored Magicka overflow out of the sphere bound in chains of the same color, the golden runes upon the Artifact seemingly being copied on the chains that bind it.

There are five chains in total, with four of them stretching out in each cardinal direction and digging into Reality itself, while the last one was attached to the bottom of the Eye of Magnus and went downward, to somewhere deeper into the city.

There is so much Magicka here that I can't even use Mind's Eye…

I don't bother studying the tall buildings around me, or the road, or my surroundings. I start walking so to instantly reach the bottom of the Eye of Magnus, not willing to waste time.

The other will very likely head there too, so it is the best option to reunite with everyone.

Yet, my feet slowly come to a stop. I don't know why.

I turn my head to the street to my right, and the sheer silence allows me to hear it. Humming.

I glance at the Eye of Magnus one last time… Before walking away from it and towards the humming.

I walk past two large buildings, the doors tall and the windows wide, before the road keeps going right beside a large park.

Tall trees with fruits on them, tall green grass, and pond with fishes in them right in the middle of the large park.

Games for children, chairs and tables for people, and a clear view of the sky and the surrounding city.

And beside the pond, feeding the fishes, was a hunched over old man draped in a dark, dusty cloak. The source of the humming.

His shaky hand kept tossing feed to the fishes, his pale eyes staring into nothing, a small smile plastered on his aged, wrinkly face and hidden slightly by his long white beard and hair.

My approach brings the old man to a short pause, "Ah…" He starts, voice raspy and rough, "It has been long since this place received guests."

His other hand grabs the staff at his side, which he uses to support his aged body and turn towards me, his pale eyes meeting my own. "An Undead, I see…" His gaze then flicks to the side, "The Dragonborn… One of Hircine's… And an Atmoran too…"

His staff clicks on the ground below him as he turns to stare at me, "What might you all be here for, hm~?"

I don't answer, and just keep staring at him.

There's no way. It cannot be.

Yet… This has to be him.

"It is a pleasure to meet you…" I start, and the old man lift his head higher, "Ahzidal."

The hand clutching his cane stops shaking.

His hunched over body straightens itself without problem.

His pale eyes focus.

And the Embittered Destroyer stops his act.

"Ah…" The ancient Nord and greatest Enchanter in history starts, sighing low, "I really, really hate that name." He states with a smile. It is not a warm smile.

Then, he moves.

His staff cuts through the air.

The park evaporates as the old man blooms with heat akin to an exploding Nuclear Bomb.

So I answer in kind, and the darkness clinging to me expands forth as if the Sun suddenly started shooting down the horizon.

Billions of eyes peek open from within the abyss.

Millions of voracious snapping jaws reach for the ancient Mage.

And tens of thousands of demented howls herald the coming of the Asylums within Saarthal.

….

The sudden change of light blinded him momentarily, forcing Deinmaar to cover his vision with his massive arm for but a moment.

Then, when he came to, he found himself standing in an empty street.

His gaze moved upward first, where a colossal sphere lay bound in chains. His brother's target. It looked very close, just a leap away.

Yet Deinmaar did not jump towards it instantly, instead, he focused on the chain at the bottom. The closest to him.

It went downward, towards a large palace in the distance, right at the end of the road he was standing on.

Deinmaar started to move towards it, but faltered the next second. Not only because he noticed he was alone and away from the others, but also because his gaze strayed towards the surrounding buildings.

Tall doors – to match his build and height – and wide windows. Tall and wide buildings, made so the rain would flow down from the roof instead of gather, freeze and weight it down.

His gauntlet-clad hand brushed against the stone making up the closest building. Bright red bricks stacked on top of each other, some painted on for different colors, each home a certain distance away from the other so to create space between them.

So this was how his people used to live after coming from Atmora?

He almost could hear it. The playful laughter of children as they played outside their homes with their friends, as they ran around knowing that their mothers would watch after them from the windows, a hearty meal being prepared once they returned home, tired but happy.

And he could almost see it too. His dream. Building made to hold the weight of Dragons, so that they could nap on them while basking in the Sun, or use them to watch the children play below.

Where they could reach down with their long necks and snatch the food offered through the window.

Where they would make sure nobody harms the children.

That was the dream he and Konahriik worked so hard to achieve, and yet…

Deinmaar sighs deeply, then moves forward with purpose. It is still possible. It has to be.

A Human and a Dov love each other. A Dov seeks to protect the mortal races.

They cannot be unique cases. There surely are more Dragons like Lah and Julspaan.

His steps are heavy, his shoulders squared, and his eyes burning with determination.

But his dream aside, now he had to help his brother. Repay him for opening his eyes and giving him hope once more.

Deinmaar walked down the street and towards the distant chain. He walked past open gates and into the large courtyard of a palace meant for the ruler of the city.

The palace stood at the same level as the rest of the city, instead of being high above. It told Deinmaar that the ruler of this city did not wish to look down on his people.

The chain drew closer and closer, until only a set of large gates stood between it and Deinmaar, so his large hands slammed against the massive gate and slowly pushed it open.

A gush of Magicka flowed against him and through the opened gates, but Deinmaar ignored it all and pushed through, walking through the gale of Magicka until he the chain stood before him.

Yet… Between him and the chain lay a throne. A massive throne.

A sitting upon it was a man clad in heavy dark armor made out of Ebony.

A long cape, a long beard of gray hair, and a helmet that stretched upward in what appeared to be two small Dragon Heads.

The man upon the throne slowly blinks his burning red eyes open, looks at Deinmaar up and down, then stands.

And for the first time in his life, Deinmaar has to look up to meet someone's gaze.

"Hm…" The titan of a man hums as he studies Deinmaar, "A young Atmoran stands before me once more. Surprising." The man's voice was deep. Powerful.

It sent tremors down Deinmaar's spine and made goosebumps rise all over him.

This man was powerful. His instincts screamed at him.

"What's your name, boy?" The titan asks, and Deinmaar gulps deeply.

"Deinmaar." The man that sat upon the throne hums deeply.

"Deinmaar… Guardian, huh?" The older man tested the word, then shrugged his shoulder, "What are you the guardian off then, boy?"

The man bearing the title Deinmaar pauses, and his eyes become lost.

And the titan before him sniffs.

Then punches Deinmaar in the stomach.

The blow shook the entire palace. The shock-wave ensuing from that swift, casual strike ripped the stone below their feet asunder, and Deinmaar forced out a gasp of pain as he was bent over that muscular arm, then shot down the street like a cannonball with laughable ease.

Buildings exploded a second after his form flew by, the very street being torn apart from the rampaging gales his flight caused.

His form only came to a stop at the very end of the street he first appeared in, a cough of pain flowing past his lips as he struggled to his feet while holding his stomach.

That blow… Hurt. It hurt him a lot. Deinmaar could taste the blood on his tongue… And he smiled.

No- He grinned.

Shrugging his shoulders, Deinmaar draws his blade and flares his nostrils as he stares at the distant figure still standing before the throne.

The titan who punched him turned around and walked back to the throne, then reached behind it and lifted a colossal two-handed pitch black war-ax with a single hand, and rested it on his shoulder like it weighted nothing.

Then turned, and started walking towards Deinmaar. And the former Dragon Priest started walking towards the older man in turn.

"And who is your name!?" Deinmaar yells, and the older man laughs.

It was a loud, arrogant and prideful laugh.

"Who am I?!" The titan's laugh grows deeper, "I am known as the First Man!"

"I am The Bringer of Words!"

"I am the Harbinger of All!"

Deinmaar's grin turned nearly maniacal. His steps turned into a run.

"I." The titan started running towards him too. "Am!"

Their weapons were drawn back.

"YSGRAMOR!"

Their blades clashed with the might of two colliding stars.

And the whole city of Saarthal buckled beneath the might of two Atmorans.

~~XXX~~

"I thought we were going to stay by the ruins the whole time?"

Kara questions, smiling as she feels the wind caress her face. How long had it been since she last flew with Lah?

How long had it been since she sat on his head and let him fly fast while they enjoyed each other's presence?

Too long. She had yearned for these moments for so long, and now she had them back.

She still wasn't in tip-top shape and likely needed another week of rest, but already she was starting to feel better.

The seal Lah had put her in had somewhat malfunctioned. His array and Spells were overcharged beyond belief, kinda making her younger.

No white hair, no wrinkles, no back pain. All gone, and she felt much, much better.

And while she was still a bit mad about being sealed, she understood why Lah did it.

He loved her dearly, and she loves him right back. Yet, he could live for eternity, while she can't.

Magicka could help in making her live a bit longer, but past the two centuries it would become nearly impossible.

And replicating the seal wasn't going to work, as she theorized that the reason it made her younger is because it was active on her for thousands of years.

"There is something I wish to check now that I am here." Lah states, flying across the ocean below them at immense speed, with Skyrim having long since disappeared minutes ago.

"What, exactly?"

Lah hums softly, the sound loud enough to be heard through the rushing and howling winds. "Atmora."

Kara blinks at that, "Why now though?" She knows that Atmora is a fallen continent that is now completely frozen, and the reason behind that ice age is unknown.

It is so powerful, though, that it reaches across the ocean and attacks Skyrim itself. It is the very reason why Skyrim is even cold, else it would be always have a very lovely temperature.

The only reason it isn't fully cold is due to the mountain chain behind Dawnstar that stop the glacial winds from going further, else they'd probably take over the whole of Skyrim.

"Do you remember how I told you that during the Dragon War, I was but a spectator?" Kara raises a brow at that.

During the early relationship, Kara always asked a lot about the Dragon War, about the time Dragons used to rule. It was all so fascinating and interesting, after all!

"Yeah…" Her gaze flicks ahead, towards the distant Atmora that still had to come into view, "Wait, you want to check on the Dragons that were stationed in Atmora?"

Lah had also told her about the group of Dragons that settled in Atmora.

It was born due to a dispute between several Great Sages, where instead of coming to blows, three Great Sages left Skyrim with their own groups and went to Atmora to settle down there.

That group was massive, according to Lah. The force left-over in Skyrim wasn't even half of it.

"Yes." Lah confirms, "Back then, Atmora was a thriving place. It was not frozen, but it was abandoned. There weren't that many Atmorans in the first place."

His wings flapped, and his form sped up through the sky. The winds became colder, but Lah shielded Kara from them with an after-thought, "During the war, I always believed that Dragons would win."

"That the moment the main force on Atmora was summoned back by Alduin, the resistance would fail."

Lah fell quiet after that, and Kara grew curious, "And…?"

"...And then the cold winds came." Is Lah's chilling answer just as Atmora finally appeared within view.

The cold somehow became colder. It penetrated the barrier Lah had conjured, and much to Kara's horror, even the Great Sage shivered in the face of it.

"We had lost contact with the Dragons in Atmora not long after they left. Roughly a few years later." Lah continues, "We believed it was because they wished to seclude themselves, still harboring anger towards the fight that caused the split."

The ocean finally disappeared from below them, replaced by miles and miles of ice. Dense, eternal ice.

Kara shivers in horror, for she could feel that Magicka itself had been frozen across the whole continent.

"But deep down I knew." Slowly, Lah flapped his wings and landed before a colossal mountain of clear ice. "Deep down, I knew that He had done something."

Kara shivers as Lah stares at the mountain of clear ice in front of them- No, he stares at what is inside it.

"H-Honey… What the hell is this?" Kara questions, now shivering from the cold that could not be warded off or fought against with any form of magical fire.

"The Great Sage of Spirits." Lah states, staring at the amethyst Dragon frozen solid within the mountain of ice, a look of pure horror eternally etched within its now dead face.

Then Lah turns to another mountain of ice to his left. "The Great Sage of Fury." Within that mountain of ice was a smaller, light blue Dragon, wearing an equally horrified look upon its frozen face, jaws parted as if to Shout. Or scream.

"And the Great Sage of Life." Then, Lah turns to his right, where a black Dragon was frozen within a spire of ice, just as horrified as the other two.

"Three Great Sages. Hundreds of Sages. Thousands of Dragons and tens of thousands of Dragon Priests. All killed within an instant by the one man that made me love studying Magicka."

Kara pants out, eyes wide in horror as she stares at the eternally frozen continent in realization.

"And this is the Spell he used to end them all…"

"Cocytus."

A.N. Ysgramor really is an absolute fucking chad. Not only did he know how to fight, but also how to read.

So what did he do? He genocided the Elves, stole their language, and changed it into his own.

This man is the Goat.

Lots of headpats to the one dude that guessed that Ysgramor was gonna be in Saarthal!

Hope y'all enjoyed this chappy!

Toodles!

I, Draugr chapter 46

A problem that arose after my Evolution was that my skills with Original Runes kinda took a step back.

My recent Evolution was… An anomaly. It wasn't normal, and it was somewhat forced by my fury and Sheogorath somehow hijacking the System momentarily.

Thus, all ten thousand plus Souls I had in reserve were used for my Evolution that only require a thousand, and each time I Evolve my Spells and everything else naturally grow quite a bit stronger.

This Evolution made the jump in power be equal to said Spells having Evolved too, hence their Original Runes that I once knew very well had changed a great deal, so I had to restart.

It wasn't really a problem, as I kinda find the Original Runes for my Spells with is… It is wielding said Original Runes that is now insanely hard.

Why? Because I have too much Magicka right now.

I am fairly sure that my current reserves are at least a hundred times – if not more – greater than my previous ones, which… Holy fuck.

Hence, my once fine control is kinda messy currently, and I pump too much Magicka into my Spells without meaning to.

Plus, Original Runes automatically absorb the surrounding Magicka, so add that to me pouring in even more without meaning to… And I could have nearly evaporated Whiterun by accident a few minutes ago.

So I instead put a hole in the cloudy sky above. A massive hole. One that swallowed Whiterun, the surrounding valley, and reached all the way to High Hrothgar.

"Think you could still bitch-slap that to the side?" I ask Deinmaar as I fiddle with the dark dragon scale in my hand fashioned into an eye-patch.

The titan of a man nods, sitting on the ground of Jorrvaskr's courtyard and enjoying the sun with his helmet off… While Gretel crawls and climbs all over him for some damn reason. "It would numb my hand, but I could still redirect it."

Yeah, I had no doubts. He might be weakened right now due to having stood still for thousands of year, but he is utterly overpowered at his prime.

I've slowly started to create a chart of where certain beings stand at in terms of power.

Deinmaar at his prime would stand at the very peak of power a Dragon Sage would have at their strongest. The gap between that and the level of a Great Sage is… Gargantuan, for sure.

Aurelia right now should be around the level of power of the weakest Dragon Sages, while I am probably somewhere in the middle tier, maybe touching the high tier.

According to Deinmaar, the Dragon Army may not have even a dozen Great Sages, but it has hundreds of Dragon Sages, which is still an immense force.

Then the likes of Konahriik, Dinok and even Kara stand among the ranks of the Great Sage… Though even those ranks have immense differences in power.

After all, Lah did butcher the previous strongest Great Sage without effort.

I think I'll reach Deinmaar's level either with another Evolution, or two more. Though I dare not guess what it'll take me to reach Kara's level.

Luckily, I kinda don't need Evolutions to hit hard and punch higher than my self-given ranking. My Spells are bullshit, and I can easily make them even more horrifying with laughable ease.

Plus, there are no Great Sages still alive that are super loyal to Alduin, and the World Eater is currently too weak to bring them back, and will be for a while, giving me and the others plenty of time to grow stronger.

...I should really find out how much stronger I am, though. I barely flexed my powers when I handled Hevnoraak, after all.

Though… I remember the System still has a special power. The power to change my Race- Or perhaps add the best of other Races on my spiritual or chemical make-up.

Or whatever it does to modify my Race.

I still have that power, which I haven't really explored. It is a bit sad that I can't do it with Dragons, but no other Race other than the Yokudans really interest me.

Now, if I had access to Races from other Universes, though… That'd be different.

"How are you feeling, by the way?" I ask the giant as another microscopic Original Rune settles on the eyepatch in my hands, slowly bringing the small Array I am practicing with to completion.

Deinmaar grunts, rolling one of his shoulders while Gretel sits on the other one, looking all proud that she climbed the mountains that are his muscles, "Lethargic and stiff."

I wince a bit at that, "Neither Magic or Potions can help with that, unfortunately." The Atmoran nods, scrunching up his nose in slight distaste.

"I just need some good physical exercise." He states after a bit, "Shouldn't take too long to go back to normal."

I hum softly as I lower my gaze. Maybe I should go Juggernaut and trade blows with him again? "I was going to offer a spar, but we kinda need a very destructible landscape for that."

We share a good laugh at that, "We already removed a small island off the maps, didn't we?" He points out, and I pause. Oh yeah, that temple of his!

"Yeah, let's not make that a habit…" I offer with a snort, which he quickly shares.

That's when Aurelia's voice reaches us from behind me, "Wait, what's actually the problem with Deinmaar?" I turn to stare at the beautiful woman, who… Should I consider her my girlfriend now?

I think I should. Huh. Now I'm feeling all giddy, kickin' my legs and shit.

Her and Hildr both. Gotta pat myself on the back for somehow pulling two incredible babes.

Both women wear radiant smiles on their faces as Aurelia brushes Hildr's eyes while the redhead sits ahead of her.

Hildr's hair always look perfect and well-brushed, but they are anything but, so Aurelia took it up as a challenge to try and tame that wild crimson mane.

"You remember how you struggled with controlling your strength after absorbing your first Dragon Soul?" I point out, and she perks up at that.

Honestly, I am also struggling with that right now due to my Evolution having enormously boosted those race modifications I did some time back that turned me into a frozen corpse.

"Oh, yeah…" Aurelia nods, then cutely tilts her head to the side, "And Deinmaar is struggling with that?"

The giant man makes a so-so gesture with one of his hands while the other stops Gretel from tumbling down his shoulder and putting her back on it, "I basically stood still for thousands upon thousands of years."

"All my years of experience mastering my strength and Magicka just… flowed away. Even my battle-honed instincts have gone dormant." His clawed fingers brush through his mane of black hair as he sighs deeply, "So I either hit hard, or I hit very, very hard… Which can only end badly."

Hildr whistles softly, "How strong are you, actually?"

The giant pauses for a second, then cups his chin in thought, "Uh…" He starts as his gaze flicks up north, "Are you aware of the road that leads from Dawnstart to Whiterun?"

I pause. Even Aurelia, Hildr and Gretel go still.

I barely hold back a snort, "You did fucking not."

Deinmaar's gaze grows sheepish, "I thought it was a good idea to add a shortcut through the mountains there…"

Gretel gapes at the Atmoran from her spot on his shoulder, "So you just… Fuckin' removed the mountains?"

Deinmaar nods, and I lose it, nearly falling off my chair from how hard the laughter hit me.

"Konahriik was not amused…" Deinmaar chuckles, a nostalgic look in his eyes, "Mostly because I swung my sword a little too hard and left a ravine where the road should have been…"

Hildr turns to give me a flat stare, "And you want to teach this guy Reinforcement?"

"Yup!" I dare not imagine how horrendously powerful this giant goofball is gonna be when he learns it.

Recovering my composure, I straighten myself with a few remnant chuckles escaping me. Luckily, the array I was placing on Hildr's eyepatch wasn't ruined, so I swiftly finish it right after.

A bright lime-green glow erupts out of the eyepatch for a split second before it calms down and goes back to normal, but now it radiates a powerful and constant healing aura.

"Huh, much easier than I expected." I muse to myself as I stare at my completed project. It ended up much stronger too due to the fact that the array is placed on one of Alduin's scales.

Even weakened, they are still of a far greater quality than any we have on hand.

I stand up and approach Hildr, who gives me a sweet smile as I brush the hair covering her scarred eye away. I put on her eyepatch and tie it well before pulling back and nodding.

Now, with this, I can be even more relaxed. I've basically given her a pocket Terra Santa, making her nigh-immortal with how powerful that Healing Spell is.

And that's when Gretel speaks up, "Can I have that on my knife too?"

I pause, then turn towards the red haired gremlin sitting on Deinmaar's shoulder, "You want a knife… That heals?"

Gretel's grin turns feral, "Infinite stabbies!"

She's a psycho…

"Fuck it, we ball. Gimme that knife."

"Leo, no!"

Hildr had to put me in a choke-hold to stop me from making the most dreadful knife in existence.

It's not like she's gonna use it on anyone of importance! Either way, Nazeem deserves it!

"Say… Have you been torturing Nazeem while I've been gone?"

Gretel pauses, a look of genuine confusion on her face. "Nazeem…?" She cutely tilts her head and scratches her chin – with her foot, mind you – while humming.

Then, realization hits.

"Oh shit…"

Hildr sighs and palms her face, "What did you do this time?"

Gretel giggles and shuffles in place, "I locked him in the sewers… A month ago."

"And forgot."

…

"I am so proud of you-"

I got put in a choke-hold again.

Is this what Molag Bal is experiencing right now?

~~XXX~~

I am quite the vindictive person, despite the fact that I prefer being nice… When I don't bully people just to alleviate my boredom.

So when I am slighted, I of course make sure to return the favor.

Though, this time, I was mainly waiting so that a certain someone finally gave me a reason to erase him from reality.

Being a Thalmor is reason enough for me to kill the fucker, but I guess I kept him around for a while just to bully him and amuse myself. Until he wasn't needed anymore.

And now… Now it is time for sweet ol' Ancano to take a trip.

My steps carry me through the long hallway, a soft hum flowing past me as the ink-black darkness washes forth from my feet like a tidal wave.

Doors and windows vanished, and soon the whole hallway was shrouded in thick, impenetrable darkness.

Ancano's steps grow to a halt, the arms crossed behind his back slowly tensing up as he becomes aware of my humming and my approaching steps.

Each step was loud now. The darkness had turned the hallway into something akin to an echo chamber, making the sound grow louder and louder.

The Altmer slowly turns, golden skin very, very pale, and his eyes grow wide in horror.

Slowly, I raise a hand to where my lips should be and hold a single finger there. Ancano, like a good boy, does not make any noise.

"You know…" I start, my steps growing slower as I draw closer, "This world has a strange thing with things being seen… Sideways."

Another step, and Ancano quivers. His mouth opens, then hammers shut so hard that I am sure several of his feet were nearly pulverized from the impact.

Despite the darkness, he could still see my approaching form very well.

"Hell, the Psijic Endeavor is centered around such a thing." I keep going, voice cheerful as I take another step, "The Aurbis is a wheel, and Lorkhan had once traveled at the very end of it before looking back… And seeing it sideways, it appeared like a tall, imposing and infinite Tower."

Another step, and I reach up to remove my Mask. Ancano looks close to fainting from horror.

"If you manage to peer at the Tower, then you have reached the final stage of the Psijic Endeavor, called CHIM." The word, strangely, came out distorted and twisted, as if Reality itself was trying to stop it from being spoken into existence. "And, if you manage to maintain your individuality when peering at the Tower… Then you basically ascend to Godhood. I believe that is how Talos – you know, the God you refuse to admit actually exists – ascended back during the Second Era."

Another step, and now I am standing right in front of the trembling Ancano. His eyes were bloodshot, and he was suffering from a bad nosebleed too. What a shame.

"The Dwemer did it too, you know?" I hum aloud, "The grabbed the Heart of Lorkhan… And peered at it sideways. Then poof, they are all gone!"

I take another step forward, and stand right beside Ancano. One of my hands rises up and pats him on the shoulder, "So, I wonder…" I start, and his trembling head turns a bit, and his eyes look at me from the side-

"What happens if you were to look at me sideways?"

My hand falls.

The hall goes back to normal.

"Well…" I sigh softly, "That does answer some questions I've had, I guess."

Being Zero Sum really isn't a flashy affair, huh? He just ceased to exist, leaving nothing behind.

I shake my head with another deep sigh and place my mask back on, then tilt my head, "For how long have you been listening?" I ask aloud as I turn around, meeting the bright blue eyes of Kara.

The small, adorable woman stares at me quietly for several long and tense seconds, as if studying what makes me… Me. "What happened to you?"

That is the first thing she asks, and the slight tension in my shoulders melts when I hear the faint worry in her voice.

I look down and raise a hand to stare at the gauntlet covering my frozen skeleton, now cloaked in eternal darkness containing unimaginable horrors. "I fucked up." I answer after a bit, "And I got mad."

Kara approaches me without hesitation or fear, her feet gliding across the ground until she stops right in front of me to inspect the darkness cloaking my form. "Are you okay?"

If I could smile, I would. "I'm better right now." After those two confessed to me, and I opened my own heart to them… I do feel a lot better now.

Kara's blue eyes inspect me quiet for a bit longer, clear worry within them, "You can talk to me, if you need to."

I chuckle softly, "Thank you…" I state softly, "But I already feel bad that I am waking you up because it'll benefit me and others."

The minute woman's expressions softens, "You think I'd rather wiggle my toes while the world and country I live in is getting fucked up by some arrogant lizards?"

"Your husband is one of those lizards, you know."

"Watch your mouth! He is a very handsome, arrogant boy!"

I snort, then let out a soft laugh, "Man, I missed interacting with you." Kara grins, her freckled cheeks now adorned with adorable dimples.

Shaking my head, I pause momentarily before giving the woman a look, "What you heard me say… Please, do not ever think or ponder upon those things."

My voice is utterly serious, and Kara nods quietly soon after, allowing me to relax. She is an incredibly smart woman, so I know that she has already pieced things together and understood everything that I've said.

Though… I have to admit that I am surprised that someone like Kara has not achieved CHIM just yet during her life.

She and Lah dove deep into the inner workings of Magicka, of its effects upon Reality, and about how the Thu'Um and Magic woven together affected it all.

I am sure that she must've learned things from her countless years of experimenting and studying, especially since she still lived in what was the Golden Age of Magic, before the Eye of Magnus was sealed and caused the decline.

"How are you feeling?" Shaking away those thoughts, I ask that question to the minute woman now following after me.

Kara remains quiet for a bit, her face and eyes holding a multitude of different emotions before her lips part, "Excited. Nervous… And happy."

She breathes out, "I've missed him. So, so much." Her hand reaches up to rest above her chest, "So much that it hurts. A lot."

I hum, then sigh, "I'm sure he is hurting too, a lot. Especially considering the reason why he sealed you." I keep walking, only to stop when I notice that Kara isn't floating beside me anymore.

I turn, and see that she is a few steps behind, her eyes wide, "You know why he sealed me…?" She whispers, and I pause.

"You don't…?" How did she…? How the fuck did she not come to that conclusion?! I palm my mask with a nearly exasperated sigh, "For being one of the greatest Mages in existence, you really miss the easiest things, huh?"

Kara squeaks, her face having flushed slightly, "J-Just spit it out already, skelly boy!"

I snort softly, then shake my head, "Kara… Lah is immortal. You aren't." Her eyes widen, her mouth gapes… And she slowly, very slowly, starts to go pale in pure horror. "You were in your sixties when he sealed you, right?"

"He must've seen the effects aging was having on you… And couldn't bear it anymore." Kara quivers, "I think the thought of losing you permanently nearly broke Lah."

And so, he sealed her away without hesitation. Without consulting her.

Because he was terrified. Terrified that she'd refuse, or that she'd try to join him on his quest of finding a way to grant her a far greater lifespan, or something close to immortality, without the use of Necromancy.

"I-I see…" Kara pauses, then sniffs, "I'm still beating the shit outta him the moment I wake up."

"As is your right." I ain't getting between the marriage disputes of two insanely powerful beings. Nuh-uh.

"What are you going to do once you'll have your body back?" I couldn't help but ask that question.

"First of all, I'm gonna take one hell of a nice, hot bath." Kara sighs, nearly visibly drooling at the thought, "Then I'll probably move the College."

I pause at that. "Move… The College?"

Kara nods, as if what she said is a simple thing for her, "Yeah, it ain't good leaving it where it is." She huffs, then crosses her arms in thought, "Maybe I'll put it where the frozen and hollow mountain is and help build stuff that can take everyone down to Blackreach faster."

"Or maybe I'll move it close to Whiterun. Between it and Dawnstar." She shrugs after that, "I'll have to think about it more."

Yes, because picking up a whole fucking College and placing it somewhere else is normal.

...Right, she did grab a random mountain and put it down where she made the hole that goes all the way down to Blackreach.

"Though I do wanna make you my disciple." I pause, then turn to look at the grinning Kara, "You and those two girls of yours. Haven't seen such promising students in a long while!"

I… That would actually be amazing, not gonna lie. Being taught by someone with her knowledge? Yeah, count me in. "What about the other students and teachers of the College?"

Kara shrugs, "I'll give 'em one of the books I wrote." She waves off without care, "If they can't improve with those… Then teaching them myself would be a waste of time."

I guess she is right on that. Reinforcement isn't a really hard Spell to learn, yet the students and even some teachers struggled so much with learning it.

Hildr got it down in a few seconds, and Aurelia also learned it after just a few minutes of trying under Hildr's guidance.

If the Mages of the College, teachers and students alike, cannot improve even when studying from books Kara herself wrote… I guess they are kind-off hopeless.

"Come on, let us not keep your real body waiting." Moving down the hallway, I reach the staircase that brings me to the next floor.

From that one, I move in the direction of the Archmage quarters, where the others are already waiting for me.

Entering through the large doors, the ladies and Deinmaar turn to stare at me, together with Savos Aren. "Sorry for the wait." I start as I approach the group in the middle of the large circular room.

It is less a bedroom, and more just a personal library and study. Though what I am here for is the circular spot in the center of the room.

Right below Savos Aren's feet is a round and large dark-green plate. It resembles glass – or jade – at a glance, and looks completely normal and just there to reflect the light coming from the hole above it.

But in reality, it is an elevator. One that brings us to the bottom of the ocean floor, where Kara's secret library and room are. She built it before Shalidor passed, to keep secrets away from the old man who at the time was already going insane in his pursuit for knowledge.

"Leonidas." The Archmage nods at me in greeting, though there is clear confusion within his glowing eyes, "Your friends here said that you had something urgent to discuss?"

I nod, then motion for everyone to move and stand on the plate in the middle of the room. "I don't think there is a proper way to ease you into this knowledge, but… Shalidor had a daughter."

The green plate beneath us rumbles as Kara taps it twice with her foot, making thousands of microscopic Original Runes light up along its surface, startling the Archmage.

"She is, possibly, a Mage that put her father to shame." The minute woman throws me a sweet smile at that, which I'd reciprocate if I could, "And she was the second Archmage of the College… Until, she was sealed below the College by her own lover… A terrifyingly powerful Dragon, highly likely the current strongest Dragon on Nirn."

The plate descended fast, and I barely finished speaking before it reached the bottom.

And soon, it left us standing in an immense library. Thousands upon thousands of book, laying either upon tables, or on the ground, or in libraries.

There was also a small garden, now filled with long dead plants, right beside an Alchemy station.

But what attracted my attention pretty much instantly was the source of light of the library. A rather massive crystal. A Magicka Crystal, to be exact.

Possibly of the highest grade there is.

It was bigger than Deinmaar himself, and as large as a cart… And floating, right in the middle of it, was Kara herself. Her physical body, at least.

Savos Aren lets out a low breath at the sight, "To think that this was beneath us all this time…" I approach the crystal, and he slowly does the same, following after me.

Kara is already floating beside it, staring at herself with a look of… Longing, and worry.

She'll finally be able to sleep properly. Eat, bathe, talk with others. Be with the one she loves and yearns for once more, too.

She catches me staring, and I nod towards Savos Aren. She understands and floats towards him, then taps his forehead.

The man startles, blinks a few times, then finds himself staring at the floating Kara, and at her frozen body behind her. "Howdy, brat." I snort at her greeting, while Savos looks just about ready to faint.

"This… How…" And he has been broken.

"This is her Astral Projection." I inform the Dunmer, "It is how I became aware of her existence in the first place… She is a bit of a goofball, so be prepared."

Kara's mature response is to give me the middle finger. Which I reciprocate, but am forced to stop when Aurelia slaps the back of my head with a cute glare in her eyes.

"Daggah." We all pause.

Then, as one, turn to the Riekling that just fucking spawned in the middle of our group.

"Poopdaggah, how the fuck did you get here?" How is this little bastard so damn sneaky? Gretel even went off to look for him while we went ahead to the College, but he has been here the whole time.

Or has been stalking us the whole time.

"Daggah." Poopdaggah nods, staring in two different directions like always, while facing absolutely no one.

Yes, that totally answers my questions, you damn legend. "Anyway…" And he is gone again. "How do we do this, Kara?"

Kara shakes her head, having been quite disturbed by Poopdaggah's stealthy appearance. "Well… You just gotta break the damn thing." She finally sighs out and jabs a thumb towards the large crystal containing her body.

Deinmaar steps in front of it and raps his knuckles against it, causing what must've been close to millions of Original Runes to flare to existence all across the library.

Jesus… Overprotective much, Lah? How did his fat ass even fit in here?

"Won't it harm you, miss?" The giant Atmoran asks, and Kara swiftly shakes her head.

"Not in the physical way." The minute woman answers softly, "I've had time to study the Array placed and being kept active by the Magicka Crystal."

"Once broken, it'll basically jump-start my body so to activate my heartbeat." Turning to the side, Kara nods towards Hildr and Aurelia, "Hence why I'll need the two ladies to look after me. One to keep me warm, the other to constantly use Restoration Magic on me while doing chest compressions."

Finally, she turns to Savos Aren, "As for you… You'll need to activate the protective array around the College."

As she explains all of that, I keep staring at her real body inside the crystal. She looks… Different. Younger, youthful. Barely in her twenties.

No trace of age. Of white hair. Of wrinkles. Peculiar.

"Is something bad going to happen?" Savos asks, and I nod as I turn back around.

"Lah, her husband, will feel the seal being broken… And will storm back here, and very likely erase this part of Skyrim off the maps if we aren't careful enough."

The Archmage grows visibly nervous, "Will the Array even be able to hold him back?"

Kara snorts, "Fuck no." She laughs, "But it'll make him falter. My hubby abhors violence, so he won't act violently until he sees fit, even if he feels my seal being broken."

I hum at that, "And the Array will still take a considerable amount of force to shatter, which can still be lethal for the people living here." Kara nods, and I sigh, "How much time do you need?"

Turning around, her blue eyes glow as she glares at her real body, "A minute. As long as I can merge back with my body and snap awake for even a second, I'll be able to use my Magicka to pilot it like a puppet so to quell Lah, then I can focus on recovering."

As long as she'll be fine… And we won't be in danger of being atomized by a bullshit powerful Dragon.

"It is wise to keep Aurelia here too." I admit after a moment, "Lah might misunderstand if he sees the Dragonborn waiting for him."

Aurelia winces, then nods in agreement. He'll think we are using his wife as a way to lure him here and kill him, which won't be good.

Shaking my head, I clap my hands loudly, "Alright, I'll go and stand on the walls of Winterhold. Give me five minutes and then you all can start, alright?"

Kara nods and gives me a gentle gaze, "Be careful."

I give her a thumbs up as I walk back to the elevator to go back up top.

Luckily, I already have a way to make Lah listen… I just gotta hope that he'll give me time to start speaking.

...Fuck, Gretel is still in the city. She might try and stab Lah at first sight, that damn gremlin!

Well, let's hope she doesn't… Even if it'll be hilarious.

I just gotta rely on my Talk No Jutsu. The Talk No Jutsu I use the exasperate people, piss them off, or make them go crazy.

Yep, I am absolutely fucked!

And that, of course, is when the sky rumbled. There are no clouds in the sky right now.

...I barely reached the damn walls too.

I look up, and watch as the skies grow dark. Pitch black clouds appear in a split second, rumbling with catastrophic lightning.

No Shout, no nothing. Just pure fury affecting the world.

A bolt of lightning crashes down, but I flick my wrist and block it from pulverizing a house with a colossal Ward.

And that is when I lower my gaze and find a giant Dragon standing before the walls.

Royal blue scales with hints of gold, glistening like a metallic sheen. Golden eyes staring down at me, burning with immense yet restrained fury and worry.

Slowly, I cross my hands behind my back, "I would say it is a pleasure to finally meet you, Lah… But I can tell you aren't in a talking mood."

The Dragon lets out a low, long breath, and it felt like the entire world quivered in fear from it.

"I sense the Dragonborn." The mighty Great Saint rumbles out, his voice dignified and… Rather beautiful, I must admit. "If you dare use my Wife as a trap…"

"The Dragonborn is currently tending to Kara." Lah stills at my words, "But before that…"

Now, it is finally time to gamble. Lah is barely restraining himself, so…

"Are you aware that Kara has been awake this whole time?"

Lah instantly goes still. "...What?"

Fucking bingo.

"Her Astral Projection." I specify, and a pair of golden eyes slowly widen in mounting horror, "It woke up, free of her body, after you sealed her. She has been awake since then."

I don't need to say more, because I know Lah will understand.

The Astral Projection uses Magicka, but couldn't regenerate it. Slowly, but surely, Kara's gargantuan reserves started dwindling because she has been holding the projection since the First Era.

Thousands of years. That is a testament to just how much Magicka she has, and how careful she has been in not spending any.

"No…" Lah whispers, horrified, his gaze wandering towards the distant College, "No… I…" The mightiest Great Sage stumbles, not knowing what to say.

Honestly, it was all just very, very bad luck for him. Kara had left her body with her Astral Projection at the very moment Lah snapped and sealed her away.

This caused her Astral Projection to kind-of enter a short slumber before returning, and when Kara woke up, she found herself sealed… With her beloved gone.

"So, uh…" I reach up and rub the back of my neck, "She didn't say it, but… I think she's about to come and whoop your ass."

...Did Lah just fucking whimper…?

"...Can you tell her I've never been here…?" Don't laugh, Leo. Don't laugh. Just don't.

"She's just going to hunt you down, dude." I can believe this actually worked, and now I am looking at the mightiest Great Sage… Trembling on the spot, with his wings curled around him.

I guess Kara did mean it when she said that Lah is a sweetheart, huh?

"I can hide!" Lah stresses, and I chuckle softly.

"No, you can't." I pause. Because that wasn't me who just answered.

I turn my head and pause when I see Kara floating right beside me. Her real body, not her Astral Projection.

She is a bit pale, with bags under her eyes… But there is a very, very cruel smile on her face.

Lah whimpers and crouches low, like a terrified cat curling in on themselves, "D-Dear… You l-look as beautiful as ever!" He's fucking stuttering… Jesus Christ, Kara has this poor guy absolutely whipped.

"Keep the compliments coming, honey." Kara hums, clearly pleased, and Lah perks up- "You ain't getting laid until the end of the next century."

I cough into my fist- "Nobody believes you." Then cough again.

She turns a scathing glare towards me, "You shut the fuck up." I do so. For now.

"D-Dear, let me explain-"

"On your back." The ground shakes, and Lah is on his back, giant claws in the air.

I… What in the actual fuck.

Kara crosses her arms… Then smirks. It is a very perverted smirk.

"Now bark for me, you sexy cutie-"

"Okay, I am leaving."

What the fuck did I just unseal?!

A.N. I wondered if I should write a short fight between Lah and Leo…

But then I realized that, even after his recent immense power-up, that there is no conceivable way for Leo to last even two seconds against Lah.

So yeah, a quick talk-no-jutsu moment where he made Lah realize how he fucked up. And how fucked up he was.

Next chapter will be the start of the short-ish Saarthal Arc… Then Serana!

Hope y'all enjoyed this small filler chappy!

Toodles!

I, Draugr chapter 45

The stench of of smoke and burn flesh filled the air.

The skies had gone black, raining down burning meteors that left immense craters into the earth, while lightning rumbled across the Heavens.

Powerful claws stomped on the scorched terrain, the roars of Dragons filling the air as Alduin stood in the epicenter of a destroyed city.

As fast as they had come, they changed the landscape and claimed countless lives with laughable ease, and the Souls he harvested slowly returned his strength.

But it was slow. Far too slow.

It had taken him centuries to reach the level of might he wielded at his prime. Might that could ruin Nirn with laughable ease.

And now, he was forced to search for scraps. Now, he was forced to take part in the destruction like a barbarian, instead of leaving it to his subordinates.

He hated it. He hated all of it.

His baleful gaze flicked around the ruined landscape. This was the land where those damnable trees used to take root, wasn't it?

But now they were too busy being torn apart by his sisters, as he couldn't feel the presence of any of them so far.

He needed to regain his strength, and powerful Souls could do the job even faster, but… Why were all the mortals of this Era so weak? They felt… Crippled.

Where was the horrendous Magical might they once wielded? The powerful bodies they boasted?

Did they become complacent after achieving victory against his race?

That was so… Insulting. Humiliating.

This victory won't feel satisfying if he doesn't crush them at their mightiest.

He shakes away those thoughts with a growl as he sits upon the ruined land, taking in the sight of destruction with a somber look within his glowing red eyes.

Regaining his strength like this would surely be far too slow. The thought of visiting Sovngarde rushed through his mind, but Alduin swiftly squashed it.

He couldn't be killed on Nirn, but it would be different if he was in Sovngarde.

He could be unmade, and it would take him eons to fully come back from that.

He couldn't risk having the Dragonborn and her companions chase him there, especially with the lacking strength he currently wielded.

And especially when he barely had five-hundred Dragons under his current rule, compared to the more than ten-thousand he once had.

Hell, he even barely had five Dragon Sages following him, especially due to Odahviing having changed sides.

A growl flows past his mighty jaws, his claws flexing into the earth. He couldn't afford to bring back some of the fallen Great Sages, both because he did not have the strength to do so, but also because he could not make them bow and listen.

They'd try to overthrow him on the spot, those ambitious fools.

Worst of all… The other mighty forces that once occupied the continent north of Skyrim, the one known as Atmora… They were gone.

Slaughtered to the last one.

All the Dragons, all the Dragon Priests and Dragon Sages… And the three Great Sages that lived there.

Atmora held the second greatest force of Dragon-kind. An army of Dragons five-thousand strong and even more loyal Dragon Priests.

And yet there were all gone.

'It couldn't have been Konahriik… Nor Deinmaar…' The World-Eater thinks, a deep sigh leaving his jaws, as he knows that there is only one other being beside Konahriik that could have handled that army.

His own Dragon Priest. Dinok.

"Of course… You would obviously betray me for your sister, little one…"

If anyone were to gaze upon Alduin at this very moment, they would see a look of longing within the eyes of the feared World-Eater.

He still remembered their first meeting. Of that small, blind child fearlessly grabbing his tail as he walked through the temple.

And he… He did not toss her away. Or squash her like a bug.

Instead, he slowed his steps, and led her to where her sister was.

And that was the day Alduin met the one who he'd forever call his first and only friend.

Solomon.

~~XXX~~

"Oh no, you're back already…" Aela slumps in defeat while Gretel cackles like the gremlin she is, forcing Hildr to stifle back a laugh and grip Gretel's head with one of her gloved hands.

"Don't worry, I'll keep an eye on her myself this time." The Huntress sagged her shoulders in relief before she gave Hildr her full attention, her eyes gliding up and down the one-eyed redheads curvaceous figure.

"Damn, girl…" Aela whistles at the sight before her, "Putting some weight on turned you into a beauty, huh? Trying to catch someone's attention?"

Hildr laughs, a faint dusting of red on her cheeks at the compliment and a light smile on her lips, "I guess I do." A bit behind her, Aurelia feels her eyebrow twitch. Just a little bit.

And for no reason. At all. Nuh-uh.

Gretel instead cackles once more, "Yeah, big sis wants that bone-" The child instantly shuts up when a fireball floats in front of her face, while the grip on her skull grew just a tiny bit tighter.

Aela's lips twitch in amusement at the sight, "Well, don't let me hold you ladies back. Go enjoy yourselves." And as she says that, Aela throws a very, very heated glance towards someone far behind the ladies, "I instead have a mountain that I will climb, if you'll excuse me."

Soon, the Huntress strutted off, hips swaying sensually as she made a beeline towards the giant that was Deinmaar, the handsome former Dragon Priest having his helmet off as he conversed with Leonidas and Farengar just outside Jorrvaskr.

Hildr barely holds back a snort at the sight, knowing very well that the Atmoran had only one woman in his heart. Aela failed before she could even start.

"Go grab yourself something to eat, Gretel." Hildr states, patting her younger sister on the head. The two sisters shared a quick and furtive glance, and the small child swiftly understood and skipped away, giving her older sister and Aurelia some alone time.

Sighing, Hildr runs her fingers through her long hair, a hint of worry flashing past her lone eye. She was nervous, not knowing how to bring up the issue or how to even handle it without causing a disaster.

She may not have spent as much time with Aurelia as she has with Leonidas, but Hildr still cherished her and their friendship deeply. The woman was still someone who had helped save and protect her little sister from those disgusting bastards back then.

And Hildr does not wish to destroy it all due to her feelings… But she also, for once in her life, wanted to do something that made her happy.

It felt silly, but she didn't wish to give up on her very first love. She didn't want to ignore what she felt towards the man that kept giving her more and more without care.

"Would you like something to eat too?" Hildr speaks up, wetting her dry lips as she turns to stare at Aurelia. The pale woman felt… Bigger. More imposing.

More dangerous. Like a real predator.

That fit, seeing that she was a Dragon in a human body. A Dragon that had started sharpening her fangs and spreading her wings.

Aurelia shakes her head, a faint smile on her pale yet glowing face, "I'm alright, for now." She answers softly, her long silver hair seemingly glowing under the light streaming in from. "So… You wanted to talk about something?"

Hildr hesitantly nods, then sighs and leads the way to a nearby empty table for privacy.

Settling down, both women shuffle nervously, avoiding each other's eyes for several long seconds before Hildr decides to just go straight for the jugular, "I like Leo." The redhead declares aloud, face faintly flushed red.

"And by like, I mean… I mean that I love him." Hildr breathes out before relaxing, while Aurelia instead had grown tense and firm.

The Dragonborn quivered in place, not knowing what to say. She had, for some reason, expected this to happen. Or even feared this outcome.

Leo was… Unique. His idiocy and silly personality had a special charisma that was attractive. But what she loved a lot about him was his maturity, which he kept hidden.

When he opened her eyes to her problems, that was the moment when she truly and fully fell for him.

"I love him too." Aurelia admits, a small smile on her face, "And I will fight for him, if I must."

Hildr chuckles at her words, surprising and confusing Aurelia, "That's the thing…" Hildr starts, a slightly shy and nervous look in her lone eye, "Why must we fight for him?"

Aurelia blinks at Hildr, and the redhead continues, "Can't we just both love him together?"

The Dragonborn's mind goes blank… And that's when Hildr delivers the final blow.

"I do swing the other way too, just so you know…" The redhead reveals, throwing a lecherous grin Aurelia's way.

The pale woman goes as red as a tomato, and she soon shrieks out an embarrassed "H-Hildr!", which makes the redhead burst out laughing. "B-By the Divines, you've spent too much time with that idiot…"

"That jealousy I hear in your voice?"

"Yes!"

Hildr laughs again, and Aurelia slowly relaxes, laughing nervously herself. "I… I don't know, Hildr…" The silver-haired woman sighs out finally, "I don't want this to come between us, but I also want us both to be happy."

The redhead nods with a soft, warm smile on her face, "Which is why I felt it right that I shared this with you." Her smile then grows much, much warmer, "Mostly because I know for a fact that Leo would never make one of us happy and leave the other sad."

Aurelia nodded, knowing well that Leo would indeed do such a thing. He'd most definitely reject the both of them out of fear of ruining what he had with the other one and make them sad.

"W-Would he… Even accept us both?" Aurelia nervously asks, not really opposed to the idea now.

Her gaze flicks towards Hildr, to her beautiful face, her supple lips, her large chest, her shapely hips, her wide behind- Aurelia furiously shakes her head, trying to make the burning on her face go away.

Hildr snorts, oblivious to her friend's internal thoughts, "He's a man, of course he wouldn't turn down two beautiful women wanting to share him." But the redhead soon shakes her head and sighs, "Not that he really cares about carnal desires right now…"

"He just needs us. The two of us." Hildr whispers softly, "I've… I've pulled him out of some nasty, dark thoughts quite a few times now. He is terrified but won't say it so to not worry me- Us."

"He's starting to slip away from us, and what happened recently is just further proof of it." Aurelia bites her lower lip, her eyes reddening in worry for the man she yearns for, "I am sure that right now, the two of us are the only reason he hasn't broken yet."

The Dragonborn bites her lower lip nearly hard enough to draw blood, "We need to go to Saarthal." While she knew that it wouldn't fix everything, being able to sleep once more will surely help Leonidas' mental state a great deal.

Hildr nods in agreement and slumps back, "On that we can agree." The redhead pauses, then throws Aurelia a soft and warm smile, "No hard feelings, then?"

Much to Hildr's surprise, Aurelia stands up and walks around the table, then takes a seat right beside the redhead… And brings her into a one-armed hug, "None at all." Aurelia admits, strangely finding her heart at ease with such a decision.

Mostly because she knew that Leo would love them both equally.

But also because- "We can help each other handle his idiocy now." Both women shudder and hug each other to seek comfort, "I dare not imagine what you went through these past months, Hildr…"

The redhead was close to crying as she thought about her past months with Leonidas at the college, "He terrorized the Archmage for entire months, attacked one of the Khajiit students constantly for 'turning him into an anti-unded nuke' or whatever…"

"And then the stupid things he keeps on saying…"

Hildr shudders and nearly sobs, then hugs Aurelia tightly, "I am glad that you are back!"

Aurelia nods, nearly sobbing herself, "We can share the pain now! Don't worry!"

Alas, just a bit behind them, Gretel came to a pause at the sight in front of her, a half-chewed sausage hanging from her mouth.

The child blinks, stares at the two hugging women, then narrowed her eyes in thought.

"Didn't know you two had the hots for each other." The Devil of Whiterun- Gretel points out after finishing the sausage she had gained through very legal means.

The two older women startled and pulled away from each other as they turned to glare at Gretel, faint flushes on their cheeks.

Gretel raises a lone brow at the stares, "What?"

Hildr narrows her lone eye before sighing, "Nothing, you brat. We were just bonding."

Aurelia nods rapidly, fixing her long hair while trying not to throw obvious glances towards Hildr's cleavage.

Gretel, obviously, saw it all.

"Shouldn't you do that kinda bonding in the bedroom, and with much less clothing?"

Gretel blinks, then stares at the horse-sized fireball floating above Hildr's head.

And the gremlin sneers, "You won't."

She was proven right when, in the next second, the fireball disappears.

Gretel smirks confidently… Until both Hildr and Aurelia pounce towards her with a cry of, "Tickle the little shit!"

Her squeals from the horrid torture could be heard all the way to Dragonsreach.

~~XXX~~

"So far we have around a thousand soldiers geared up with Dragon-forged gear."

I stare down at the clearing were nearly two hundred men and women were training hard while wearing the heavy armor made out of Dragon scales and bones.

They were swinging their weapons, running around, and even fighting each other all so to get used to the weight.

"These ones are not Enchanted yet?" I ask the Court Mage, taking note of how the training soldiers were struggling with their movements and the armor.

Something that wouldn't happen if all the armor had the Enchantments tailor made from Kara placed upon them.

Farengar shakes his head with a sigh, "Unfortunately, not yet." He reaches up to rub two fingers against his temple, "While I am training some students, that will take time, so I am handling the Enchanting myself."

"But while Magicka recovers fast, it does get mentally and physically taxing after a while, so I can at most do five or six each day. So far, I've barely Enchanted around three-hundred suits of armor."

I hum at that, kind of having expected this result. Kara did tell me that Original Runes inflict a heavy mental burden – which I am somehow immune to – beside their immense Magicka requirement.

And the Original Runes, outfitted into a mighty array, that go on top of the suits of armor are quite advanced too.

The mere fact that Farengar can handle this strain both shows how hard he is pushing himself, but also shows that he is quite talented too.

"Still, it is a good choice to place the Enchantments on Dragon-forged gear." Deinmaar states from beside me, his enormous arms crossed before his chest. "Enchantments placed upon them never disappear, as the bodies of Dragons, even in death, constantly absorb the surrounding Magicka, thus keeping the Enchantments constantly active."

I stare at the giant Atmoran quietly… Because I am trying not to laugh.

Who knew that a beautiful lady could make this titan of a man flush and stutter when approached in such a direct way.

Aela just came up to us, purred at Deinmaar, said "I'd love to climb this sweaty mountain of muscles anytime, anywhere." Then she winked at him and walked away while swaying her hips.

And Deinmaar was left floored. Dude was gaping at the sheer audacity and at how forward the Companion was in her thirsty approach.

Never did I expect the mighty Deinmaar to actually blush from having a woman tell him that she wants to fuck him.

"I see, that explains it…" Farengar muses, bringing me out of my thoughts, "Such powerful Enchantments would run out within five seconds on any other piece of armor. I guess they can only last on such gear."

Obviously, else I doubt Kara would have made them so horrendously powerful.

And I believe she held back. A lot. Like, this was the weakest but also the strongest Enchantments that she could share, because anything stronger would have a far too enormous cost on the gear.

"Still, a thousand suits of armor isn't bad." I hum, though I do notice the faint… Disapproval in Deinmaar's eyes. That, and disappointment.

He clearly sees something lacking in the warriors below, and I believe I know what it is, and the reason for it.

The Eye of Magnus being sealed. Such a thing happened a little bit after Kara was sealed by Lah, but what caused it?

Either way, this caused Magic to slowly go on a constant decline compared to the Golden Era that was the Merethic Era, and the times of Shalidor and Kara.

Back then, the Mages were utterly horrifying, and some Dragon Priests are proof of that… But more than that, the sheer Magicka density from back then made even normal mortals bullshit strong in terms of pure physical might.

I wouldn't say that they were on par with Deinmaar, but they'd still be insanely strong compared to the warriors of this age.

I believe it works similar to my Reinforcement Spell. The sheer Magicka quantity within one's body naturally boosting their physical capabilities, the same way how the corpse of a powerful mage slowly gets frozen over time and becomes an Undead with insane durability and strength.

But while Skyrim now is still one of the places with the highest density of Magicka around, especially around Winterhold, it is not on the same level as during the Merethic Era.

Deinmaar himself confirmed this suspicion of mine a bit ago, when I asked.

Hence, the sealing of the Eye of Magnus basically crippled all of the races and slowly made them weaker and weaker, both in terms of Magical capabilities, magical studies, and physical prowess.

Was this intentional? Did someone purposefully do this so to cripple all the races?

Did they do so in order to give the Dragons a greater chance upon their return, or what?

"Just keep going like this. I'll see if I can bring you some support soon." I tell Farengar, receiving a grateful nod back as I look around – was that Odahviing that just flew away in the distance? - before relaxing.

I don't think I can ask Kara to just Enchant stuff for us once she is awake, but I'm sure she wouldn't mind giving some tips and instructions for others and writing them down.

And they will be even more valuable and helpful once the Eye of Magnus is freed, and the effects that once crippled everyone hopefully come off.

I do fear that even those that do not deserve this boost will gain it, though. Like the Thalmors, for example.

"How much time do you think we have?" Farengar asks softly, and I hum and cross my arms in thought.

"Alduin is weak. He won't be able to bring back the stronger side of his forces without fear that they won't try to usurp him." Which Alduin won't for, so he'll only bring back those that are weaker than him if they are dead.

"He'll want to rebuild his army of Dragon Priests too. Dragons can only act efficiently when they have smart and cunning Dragon Priests to advise them."

Deinmaar nods in agreement at my words, "That will take even longer. They won't just pick anyone, like in the past." Yeah, they'll look for cunning, greed for power, but also potential.

"So give or take, we have a whole year. Maybe a lot more." Which sounds wonderful, honestly. All I need now is just a month for me to settle all the other worrisome issues that plague Skyrim before I can fully focus on the Dragons.

Plus, apparently the giant Dragon from Falkreath has offered himself as a teacher for the Thu'um for a great deal of people from all the Holds.

That'll be an immense force, though it will take time to flourish. After all, they aren't like the Dragonborn, who can absorb the knowledge of Shouts from either dead Dragons, or from those who can share it and whisper the Word into the ground.

But they can meditate upon them still. In the end, it'll all be up to them.

"Brother." Deinmaar speaks up, and I hum to let him know that I am listening, "I have a… fear, that I wish to share."

I pause at that, then turn my head to give him my full attention, "The Holds… They are too divided. Too far apart." The Atmoran points out, and I sigh.

"You noticed that too, didn't you?" I slump my shoulders and palm my masked face while Farengar furrows his brows in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

I flex my hand, then sigh again, "Riften is just asking to be destroyed due to how isolated it is." I start, making the Court Mage blink… Then pale in cruel realization, "Solitude is just one good hit away from losing half the city due to where it was built."

Whose bright fucking idea was it to build a damn city and the Jarl's palace on top of that stupid ass spot? They are basically asking anyone to hit the rocky support below and bring down the damn thing.

"Dawnstar is close to the sea, same as Windhelm, which can make them easy to sweep away." Winterhold is fine- Or will be, once knowledge that the Great Sage of Knowledge basically protects that area.

I sigh again, then shake my head and turn towards Deinmaar, "Have you any idea how the Resistance back prepared for the war?" He should know, as I am fairly sure that he slaughtered the Dragon Priest Council a bit after the war started.

The giant Atmoran hums softly before answering, "They abandoned them." He states softly, "The cities, I mean. Their homes."

"At the time, they did not care about such things. Home and roads could be rebuilt, cities can be remade… But lost lives couldn't be brought back. They cared more about survival than their homes."

"So they picked easy to defend positions, or hid in the mountains, within caves. That is how the Rebellion managed to persist even though they had hundreds of Dragons hunting for them at all times."

Yeah, I initially thought as much, and now Deinmaar confirmed these thoughts of mine.

Back then, the war wasn't fought in open valleys, but it was all about ambushes. Dragons were led in a certain spot by abusing their pride and confidence, and those who had learned or created the Dragon Rend Shout caused them to crash down on the earth.

Where they would then be mauled to death by the Resistance. Swift and deadly attacks, calculated ambushes, and soon they started slaughtering Dragons left and right.

Hell, Odahviing himself admitted that he fell in battle against a mighty warrior who openly challenged him and achieved victory.

A lone man fought and killed a Dragon Sage, which is insane. Mad respect to that dude.

"We can't really use these plans though…" I sigh out, and Farengar nods with a displeased look on his face.

"Some would be very against losing their city… And the power they wield." Farengar states, and I gotta agree with him.

Still… "Tell them to still make plans for evacuating to the nearest Hold, just in case." I suggest, and he nods with a harsh frown on his face.

Riften and Solitude are the ones that will be easy to be destroyed. One good attack, and Solitude crumbles, while Riften is so isolated that few will notice its destruction.

And long-distance communication isn't available here either! Fuck!

"Think Balgruuf won't mind sharing the Dragon-forged gear?" I ask Farengar, who pauses and cups his chin in thought.

"The Jarl will look at the bigger picture, so he very likely will." The Court Mage muses before turning to me, "What do you suggest?"

I tap my armored fingers along my arms in thought, "One hundred suits of armors for each Hold, with ten Enchanted ones among them."

"If we can't arm everyone, then form elite units. Teams of ten, with the Captain being an experienced warrior wearing the Enchanted suit of armor."

It was the best outcome, by far. Elite units meant to draw the attention of the attacking Dragons.

With their weapons and armor, they won't be squishy and killable in just a few hits, and they'll be able to tear into the Dragons scales and flesh with greater ease.

"Could you procure me some papers for scrolls?" I suddenly ask Farengar, "I'll prepare an even greater batch of the weak and powerful Healing Spells I left for Whiterun, but for the other Holds this times."

Farengar pauses at that, a hint of worry appearing within his gaze, "...What if they abuse what we'll give them?"

I shrug, "Then I'll kill them." I state coldly and ruthlessly, "I don't have time to educate some ambitious brats, so they won't even get a chance to fuck around and find out."

Like with Ulfric, if anyone tries to cause more problems during such dire times, then I'll gladly remove the off the face of Nirn without shame or guilt.

The Court Mage chuckles, "I'll make sure the message is relayed, then." Straightening himself, the Mage throws one last look at the training troops before turning, "I'll have someone send you what you requested as soon as possible."

I nod and give the departing Court Mage a wave as he leaves, leaving me and Deinmaar alone with our thoughts.

"It hasn't started yet, but I already hate war." I sigh deeply, slumping my shoulders while Deinmaar pats one of them in support.

"You need to rest, Brother." The Atmoran states, "You've done all you can for now."

I hate to say it, but he is right. I can't forge, and I can't Enchant just yet other than making Scrolls.

Though… I can probably and very easily make a bullshit powerful Array using Terra Santa and place it around Whiterun. But that could affect Dinok and make her act, which is a whole other bag of problems.

I shake my head and push away those thoughts, then turn to leave, "Come on, let's go check on the ladies."

Hopefully Hildr is still alive and well and hasn't been maimed by a jealous Aurelia, no matter how cute and adorable it all would be.

I adore the both of them quite a bit, so I'd rather they get along with each other.

The walk back to Jorrvaskr is quiet but pleasant, as Deinmaar makes is quite the nice and calming company to have.

Reaching over to him, I give his back a strong pat, "I'm glad I got you by my side, buddy." My sincere words bring the giant to a pause, before he laughs softly.

"As am I, my friend."

The inside of Jorrvaskr is still as active as always. There's playful brawls going down, drunk folks singing and stumbling in place, all to celebrate their recent victory against the recent attack.

Hildr is easy to notice, occupying a small table with Gretel, with the both of them enjoying a hearty meal as we approach.

Though I pause when I notice the lack of a certain lovely woman.

"Where's Aurelia?"

Hildr blinks and wipes her mouth with the towel, then… She shrinks in on herself and averts her gaze. "Uh…"

"I kinda told her about that Potema chick…?"

I freeze… Then sigh deeply.

So it was Odahviing that I saw flying away a bit ago, wasn't it?

Well, I'm sure she'll be alright!

….

The Devil.

The Devil itself was after her.

A Devil wielding Holy powers.

"Po~te~ma~!"

First those damnable Necromancers were trying to bind her to their will… Only for them to be slaughtered to the last one by the whirlwind of death that was the Devil.

And now… Now the Devil had somehow tracked her into her catacombs within Solitude.

"Where are you~?"

Why did this Devil sound so damn happy about hunting her?! About killing her?!

Were all Paladins of Arkay like this?! Had they gone nuts!?

"You know that Necromancy is bad, don't you~?" The Devil sang, humming a happy tune as her steps grew louder and louder… While Potema's skeleton hid behind a destroyed stone coffin. "You are a bad, bad girl for using it~!"

Potema shudders. She, the mighty Wolf Queen… Was cowering before this mad Paladin!

S-She just needed a chance! A sneak attack to turn the tides and eliminate her once and for all, then she can reclaim her might and rise to-

...Why did the Devil stop walking?

"So…" A voice speaks up. From right beside her. "From what are we hiding from?"

Slowly, Potema turns her head to stare at the Devil.

The pale silver-haired woman, hugging her legs while sitting on the ground, smiles brightly at the Wolf Queen.

The Wolf Queen whimpers. "...Mercy?"

Aurelia smiles.

Then stabs Dawnbreaker clean through Potema's skull.

"Fuck no!"

Thus, the Wolf Queen died once and for all.

In a very ignoble and pathetic way.

~~XXX~~

"This is so damn cool…" I muse aloud as I hold the glowing Dragon Blade in my hands, formed from the use of the Fire Shout.

Aurelia giggles from her spot beside, having done away with her armor for a simple dress that hugged her curves wonderfully and just made me want to ravish her with my gaze alone. "These are just a prototype for now."

She points out, and I hum softly, turning the crystallized blade in my hand, "You still haven't found a way to make them more permanent?" I ask, and she shakes her head with an adorable pout.

"I can make them last four or five hits now, and I can't… Recharge them by using the same Shout again, only make another Dragon Blade." I hum at that. This was the technique of the Ansei, which is horrendously powerful.

And Aurelia went and somehow made it even greater than before, thought she is still testing the waters with this technique.

But just the fact that she was able to create such a thing is… Insane. And cool. "And you can turn any Shout into a Dragon Blade?"

She shakes her head, sending her free hair – seemingly glowing under the gentle moonlight from above – flying left and right. "Not all of them. Like the Whirlwind Shout, for example. Or the Clear Skies." I see, so perhaps even the Slow Time Shout can't be turned into a Dragon Blade.

"I'm sure you'll figure something out with time." I tell her, watching as the Dragon Blade shatters and fades away into nothing. "You've come a really long way, huh?"

Aurelia smiles. It is a dazzling, breathtaking and warm smile that makes me swoon, and would have made my chest hurt if I could feel it.

With a hum, she leans against my right side and rests her head on my shoulder, enjoying the view from the top of the walls of Whiterun. "I've worked really, really hard because I wanted to make a certain silly guy proud of me."

My hands flex into fists, but Aurelia doesn't stop talking, "Said silly guy also told me to discover who Aurelia really is… And I've done it."

"I like the scents carried by the wind during the morning… But I hate the scent of smoke."

"I hate apples and oranges, but I love potatoes."

"I love reading the letters from a certain someone… And I hated having to wait for them."

Her hand finds mine, and she takes it in hers while crossing our fingers. "I hated being apart from him. It felt like I was missing something. Something important."

"And I love being close to him. Hearing his voice. Having his presence beside me… Holding his hand, and resting my head on his shoulder."

Curse this fucking body.

I really, really fucking hate it.

"And I love how I feel like I can conquer the world when I am with him. I love the sense of security he brings. I love how he tries so hard to help everyone… But I hate how he won't let me share his burdens."

I sigh.

It was a long, shaky sigh. Somehow, my 'breath' trembled.

Hell, my hands are shaking too, it seems. How amusing.

...Fuck it.

"I love you." Aurelia goes still against me, freezing in place as she registers my words. "I have for quite a while now. Since we split up, I believe."

I release her hand so that I can wrap my arm around her and hold her close. She all but melts against me.

"I dare not imagine what I would have become had we not met in Bleak Falls Barrow." I hum, turning my gaze to the ocean of stars high above. All holes in Reality left by the departing creators of Nirn. "Would I still try to help others? Would I have lost myself after just a few days? I wonder…"

"But none of that happened, for I had a beautiful guiding light always with me, always occupying my thoughts… Always keeping me happy."

And that's why I didn't break, isn't it? Me being happy. Me having people by my side.

People who I do not wish to disappoint, people who I wish to protect, and people who I hold dear.

Aurelia, Hildr, Gretel… Even Deinmaar. I want to help that giant of a man be truly happy for once.

I want him to feel free. To finally let go of those chains that still cling to him due to his betrayal.

Maybe even help him achieve that dream of his. Where he could finally see a day where Dragons and the mortal races can live together and coexist happily.

Without the fear, without the servitude, the slavery, and the cruelty.

"I'm so happy right now…" Aurelia whispers, burying her face against my chest as she hugs me tightly, "But… What about Hildr?"

I hum softly at that, wrapping my arms around Aurelia so to hug her close. "You keep me sane. You are… An ideal, one I wish to follow. You are my guiding light, and I'll forever stick by you."

Then, I tilt my head, turning my gaze in a certain direction, where a certain woman was trying to sneakily listen in on us.

"Hildr instead… She keeps me focused. She makes sure to remind me that I am human, even with this horrid body of mine. Not just me… I think she'll start doing it to you too."

"Our bodies allow us to be unreasonably reckless, yet she won't let us get lost in that feeling, and she'll be there to keep us grounded. She is like… An anchor. A very beautiful anchor."

Aurelia hums softly, then pulls back, revealing her beautiful face glowing with a radiant, breathtaking smile. "I keep you sane… She keeps us Human." I nod at her words.

At least, that is how I view our dynamic. I can be totally wrong, of course!

"It fits her, doesn't it?" Aurelia hums, then nods with a warm smile.

She who refuses to lose herself to her transformation, is helping others remember that deep down, they are Humans.

Of course, that's when the little shit side of me decided to wake up, "Plus, isn't she insanely sexy?" Aurelia's eyes widen, before she notices me pointing in the direction of the closest empty watchtower, where the hidden Hildr barely managed to hold back a squeak from my words.

A cheeky grin appears on Aurelia's face the next second, "She is! Her chest is so huge! I'm kinda jealous…" Funnily enough, Aurelia actually doesn't sound jealous as she hides her giggles behind her head.

I nod my head in agreement, "Two lovely and huge melons… And she shows off that cleavage so confidently too!"

"A-And have you seen her butt?!" Aurelia cries out, her voice cracking from how much she is trying not to laugh, "It's so huge! I really wanna touch it-"

"Will you two fucking quit it?!"

"There she is!" I call out, pointing a finger towards the flushed redhead the moment she stands up and shows herself, making her eyes go wide in horror, "You aren't sneaky at all, woman!"

Aurelia giggles and leans aside so to look at Hildr, "Sorry!"

The redhead huffs and tosses her hair over her shoulder, "He is corrupting you, 'Relia." I'd cackle in delight at that, but instead just wave at Hildr to come closer.

She does so after a bit, shyly averting her gaze as she comes close before sitting down on my left side… Then leaning against me.

I wrap my other arm around her and hold her close, just like Aurelia, and they both melt against me… While I release a long breath, and find myself feeling… Strangely relaxed. Content, even.

I guess all the tension I was feeling due to pushing my feelings aside and fearing that they'd go to waste has finally gone away now.

I'm glad that the conversation between the two of them went well, and I am even more glad that I won't have to pick between one and lose the other.

Still…

"Leo." I hum and perk up, tilting my head towards Hildr, who gives me a warm and gentle look with her lone eye, "I know what you are thinking… And don't worry."

"You are giving us more than we could ever ask for." Aurelia perks up, then smiles and nods her head in agreement to Hildr's words.

"She's right." The silver-haired woman hums as she leans against my chest with a beautiful, happy smile that makes her face glow.

"You are more than enough, Leo."

I stare between the two beautiful women hugging me and sharing smug looks between themselves… Then sag my shoulders.

"Fuck me sideways… You two are going to gang up on me, aren't you?"

Their answer is a pair of adorable evil cackles as they high-five each other.

...Good thing I am dead, else they'd have already drained me dry by this point.

A.N. And the relationship finally sails off, after nearly fifty damn chapters and 250k plus words!

And Serana is gonna take even longer to join the harem, for obvious reasons due to her backstory.

Also, for those who might ask, Hildr and Aurelia will also fall for each other in due time.

Hope y'all enjoyed this chappy!

Things will pick back up soon!

Toodles!

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!

I, Draugr chapter 43

Rarely do Gods feel anger.

Indignation, yes. Feeling slighted too. But anger? No, they try to avoid that, for it may lead to mistakes that other Daedric Princes may take advantage of.

And yet, Hircine did not care. The cries of that small girl reached his ears even across planes of existence, and the Lord of the Hunt raged.

And in his fury… He stepped aside and left an opening within the blockade.

Before any other Daedric Prince could realize or notice, the Mad Star slipped a piece of his essence through that purposefully left gap.

And upon Nirn, a connection to the Asylums was formed. A gate that could unleash horrors that could drive lesser man crazy at a glance.

That gate took the shape of an Undead wearing long robes and a mask.

Yet, unaware of those events, a Dragon Priest and a Dragon reunited with one another after countless Eras, deep within the mountains south-west of Skyrim.

In the depths of the mountain range lay a temple built into the side of a mountain, with long stairs descending down it's side and to a large square, all made with large squares of polished marble yellowed by time and covered by a thick layer of snow.

Ascending those steps was a massive, but heavily wounded Dragon leaking blood from the fierce wounds on his body. "Forgive me, my boy…" Vulthuryol sighs out, turning one of his two heads towards the floating masked Priest going up the steps alongside him, "Had I known you had been sealed, I would have come looking for you…"

Hevnoraak shook his masked face, his robes torn and decayed by time, yet the light scaled armor around his chest remained, "I do not blame you, my lord. The vermin who had sealed me away also hid my presence by masking it with his own, so to stop anyone from finding me."

Huffing out a cruel laugh, the Dragon Priest continues, "The fool thought he could last until help arrived. Hah!" Shaking his head once more, Hevnoraak turned his gaze towards the wounded Dragon beside him, a skeletal hand reaching out to stroke the scales of the enormous body.

"You have done some fine work with this body, my Lord." The Undead whispers softly, awe filling his voice, "It must have taken centuries to complete such a masterpiece."

Vulthuryol nods his two heads, grunting softly as he drags his weakened and wounded form to the front of the temple, leaving a long line of blood from the bottom of the steps all the way to the top, "I thought such modifications would have made me stronger… But it just made me a bigger target for that bastard."

Hevnoraak clutched one hand into a tight, trembling fist. Fury flowed through his dead and cold body at seeing his master so wounded, "Who did this to you, my Lord?"

A gentle, warm smile spreads across the Dragon's jaws at hearing the anger within his Dragon Priest's voice, "It is alright, my boy. Let us just… Leave Skyrim and rebuild our forces."

Hevnoraak startles at those words, coming to a stop before the large entrance to his temple, "You wish to leave, my Lord?" Vulthuryol nods, and Hevnoraak doesn't feel anger or humiliation.

He doesn't mind 'running away' like a coward if he gets to save himself and his Lord's life. What was humiliation to someone who only cared about surviving and growing stronger, and not the opinion of others?

"Deinmaar is back, my boy. We do not stand a chance against that monster." Hevnoraak takes in a sharp breath at that.

The giant of a man known to punish Dragon Priests if their actions overstep the 'punishment' boundary and enter the 'cruelty and torture' category.

Countless Dragons lost their cruel Dragon Priests drunk on power that used it on innocent civilians just for fun. Some using it for fun, others to expand their harems through mind control, and others just to have slaves working for them and treat them like royalty.

The moment that nameless boy was given the name 'Deinmaar' by the Warlord was the moment countless Dragon Priests lost their lives.

With a sword and pure physical might, that monster of a man walked through Spells and destroyed Masks like they were nothing.

Hevnoraak had once been on his list, but had gone into hiding when words of other Dragon Priests dying reached his ears.

"I see… That is unfortunate indeed." Hevnoraak muses softly, "I doubt I stand a chance even if I were to use my whole treasury against him. Even with the boost I have been granted by becoming the Champion of Lord Sheogorath."

Though, what Hevnoraak did not voice out was that his connection to the Daedric Prince seemed to be… Cut. Not fully gone, but also not fully there either.

The Artifact he had gained through the blessing was still there. Even the enormous boost to his Magicka reserves was, yet… Hevnoraak shook those thoughts away. He'll ponder upon the answer for that once he and his Lord were more secure.

"Let us get you healed, my Lord. I have several staves in my treasury that hold powerful Restoration Spells." Vulthuryol nods, pleased and very at ease.

"Then let us make haste, my boy. Once I am healed, we can leave-"

"No, you won't."

One of Vulthuryol's two head bursts apart like a watermelon as Hevnoraak whirls around- Only for a wall of black to slam into him and pierce straight through the temple entrance and into the depths of the mountain with a rumble that shook the valley.

A beam of white-hot flames gushed forth, cutting through the oily, inky darkness like a knife, freeing Hevnoraak and allowing him to snap his gaze towards the intruder.

A robed figure, wearing a familiar Mask, with that same ink-black darkness covering his clothes and armor… And the surrounding ground.

The Dragon Priest did not waste a second in useless idle chatter and instead clutched the staff within is left hand. At its tip lay not a Magicka Crystal, but a two-pointed fork.

Flames and lightning erupted out of Hevnoraak, their power swelling as the Fork of Horripilation further excited the Magicka, empowering the Spell as the two elements synergized and fused together into a beam of catastrophic heat.

So much so that the entrance to his beautiful temple flash melted into useless, ugly and glowing slag. Oh well, he can always enthrall more slaves so that it can be rebuilt-

A hand reaches out of the blinding beam of plasma to grip his face and slam his skull into the wall he had been launched into faster than he could realize, cutting off his Spell near instantly.

The Mask of Krosis stared back at him, burning purple flames visible through the thin eye holes, telling Hevnoraak that his opponent was a fellow Undead.

"Who the hell are you?!" Hevnoraak hisses out, clutching the wrist of the limb gripping his skull with his free hand. This bastard had just walked through his Spell like it was nothing…

The robed man tilts his head, "Someone your pathetic lizard shouldn't have pissed off." The world blurred before Hevnoraak could explode in fury at the slight against his Lord as the Undead gripping his skull whirled around, dragging him along-

Then hurled him through the wall he had been pinned against, through the rooms of his temple, through his throne room, then through the other side of the mountain with enough force and power behind it that the Enchantment on his Mask activated on its own.

A golden sphere protected his body from each impact before he ended up flying across the air and nearly smashing into the next mountain.

Yet, with a flicker of his Magicka, he swiftly regained control and resumed floating in the air, hundreds of meter above a steep drop.

His eyes trailed the falling rubble and cloud of dust smashing down the side of the mountain created by his body being sent flying through it.

A loud, unsettling groan shook the air, stopping Hevnoraak just as he was about to fly back.

The bowels of the mountain wailed, the rocks cracking and the earth trembling and falling. Large chunks of it fell off, crashing down in loud rumbles that echoes in the silence of the mountain range.

Then, the mountain ruptured. From the cracks, gargantuan pitch black arms dozens of meters long stretched out, capped by six-fingered hands and thousands upon thousands of bug-like eyes.

Eight long, bony arms in total stretched out, devouring light itself as they moved, forcing Hevnoraak to weave between the three closest ones as they tried to swat him out of the air.

The tips of the fingers were topped with gaping maws that snapped whenever they drew close to him, sharp serrated teeth trying to grind the Dragon Priest's bones to dust.

Something about these creations seemed… Familiar, to Hevnoraak. It nagged him, and he tried desperately to remember while dodging the flailing- A shadow suddenly covered his vision- "My Lord?!"

Indeed, Vulthuryol's massive wounded form had been launched at him with the speed of a meteorite, forcing the Dragon Priest to dodge out of the way and conjure a gargantuan Ward to try and save his master from a near fatal crash against the mountain side.

The impact still created a landslide of stone, gravel and debris down the mountain, but Hevnoraak relaxed when he managed to save Vulthuryol from gaining nasty injuries.

"My boy-!" The Dragon grunts out, but the Dragon Priest had already moved, flipping around and creating a golden Ward before him just in time for a Spell to hammer against it.

The spinning, star-like missile kept grinding against his Ward, pushing and spinning and squealing so loudly that any normal human would have already lost their hearing.

But Hevnoraak stood his grounded, staring at the howling Spell before him in dawning and horrifying recognition. The pieces were starting to fall into place.

And he was not liking it one bit.

"Oh?" A faintly surprised noise echoed between the gap of the two mountains and past the screaming of the Spell still grinding against the golden Ward.

Three of the gargantuan hands moved, palms facing in his direction. Two had a single massive purple goat eye staring straight towards him, the other a mouth filled with razor sharp teeth. "That shield of yours is fancy…"

The voice mused, then all the hands moved, clenching into fists… And aiming a lone finger his way. "Can it handle a slightly bigger one though?"

Eight colossal stars rumbled into existence, just their creation causing an earthquake to shake the valley and the surrounding mountains, causing further landslides.

Hevnoraak's sheer confidence and assurance in his Mask's capabilities very suddenly gained doubts.

The Fork of Horripilation hummed and his Mask started glowing, the lone golden Ward-like wall stretching out and becoming a sphere, wrapped up in a dozen more spheres-

The stars crashed down with unimaginable power, displacing the clouds out of the sky and exploding with such force that the top of the mountain behind Hevnoraak and Vulthuryol just evaporated.

The Dragon Priest quivers, staring at the golden cracked Ward before him. One Sphere, that's all that remained after that attack.

And it was cracked and already falling apart. The sight filled Hevnoraak with pure terror like he had never experienced before- No, that is a lie…

He had experienced worse when She walked past him once.

Death.

The sister of the Warlord. The one chosen by Alduin. The most brutal and terrifying Dragon Priest that no one dared to look at, speak to, or speak about.

He had stopped walking, breathing, blinking and even thinking. The sound of her slow steps had been as loud as a Dragon roaring straight in his ears, and his heart felt like it was about to burst.

It was the worst experience he had ever faced, because he knew that even a blink would have cost him his life.

And now, this unknown Undead was making him experience fear once more…

The dust cleared, and the top of his temple burst apart, sending debris flying in every direction as another pitch-black monstrosity made itself known.

The giant head of a horse came into view through the cloud of dust and debris, goat-like eyes on it's side and a long maw filled with serrated, crocodile-like teeth.

The horse head turned towards him, and that maw filled with teeth slowly unhinged itself, opening wide and showing the dozens of rows of teeth.

"My boy, we must move!" Vulthuryol hurried, spreading his wings and powering through the pain of his severely wounded body.

But Hevnoraak had gone numb.

The sight of that creation just confirmed his fears of who was before him. Of who was attacking him.

"Solomon…" He whispered out of pure dread.

A name only the oldest in the Dragon Council knew about.

A robed man that had appeared all of a sudden, carrying a small, mute Snow Elf child with him and taking her in as his student.

And that child went on to become Konahriik before she even turned fifteen.

"How is he here… Why…" Hevnoraak trembled, his staff nearly slipping out of his cold and dead fingers.

The unknown man who had taught Konahriik. The unknown man whispered to be the 'Lord of Demons' by the oldest of the Dragon Council.

An unknown being of unknown origin, wielding unfathomable power, that appeared and disappeared out of nowhere.

Vulthuryol's jaws wrap around his body just as a blinding azure light erupts in the depths of that unholy horse's jaws.

The Dragon launched himself off the mountain, and the eldritch beast roared. The loud, horrifying, distorted howl was followed by a dense beam of glacial magic that changed the weather in a split second.

Dense snow started raining, the mountain they were on became ice, then powder, then a massive cloud made of that sparkling powdered ice.

Vulthuryol hadn't escaped unscathed from the immense, indiscriminate attack. His whole left wing had been caught in the attack and was frozen solid and shattered a second later, turning his dive into a perilous fall.

A golden sphere took form around the falling Dragon just before he could crash land, but the next series of falls still had him bounce and shake around the sphere protecting him and his Dragon Priest from the worst of the fall.

Alas, laughter filled the skies right before the sphere could touch the very bottom of the frozen valley.

The unholy horse creation disappeared, and so did all those colossal arms and legs… And the laughter drew closer and closer.

The origin of the mad, furious laughter fell from the skies like a falling star, inky darkness pooling out of his robes and becoming countless arms, limbs, claws, jaws, mouths-

They all came down on the golden sphere, crashing into it heavily and adding weight to its impact on the bottom of the valley.

A lance of flames cut through that oily substance making up those horrid abominations as Hevnoraak escaped the gentle grip of his master's jaws to fight back against their attacker in hopes of driving him off, but the Dragon Priest was growing desperate. Afraid.

Like master, the disciple was a coward too, after all.

His desperation was reflected within his Spells. Everything was falling apart way too fast before his eyes. Hevnoraak's terror was making him do mistake after mistake, and his confidence wavered further due to his distance to his treasury, where all of his artifacts lay.

A wave of his arm pushed Vulthuryol back, and the Dragon Priest had his golden Ward explode in a burst of pressure and radiance, pushing the creator of those abominations back.

Then Hevnoraak multiplied. The Fork of Horripilation fused two Magic Schools together, bringing Illusion Magic and Restoration Magic to create physical Illusions. Extensions of himself.

One appeared on his right, the other on his left. Then they subsequently multiply too. Again and again.

Three become six, six becomes twelve, twelve become twenty-four. More of him filled the air, each weaving a different Spell, replacing pure power for sheer quantity.

But the Abomination did not falter even for a moment, nor did he waste a second.

One Illusion burst apart when a star smashed straight through its chest. Another one was grabbed by a twisted, unholy hand with far too many fingers and mouths on it and squeezed into paste.

And Hevnoraak started letting loose.

Spells rained down, shaking the valley, yet they barely drowned out the roars and squeals and horrible wails of those eldritch monstrosities.

One Hevnoraak tried to flee towards his temple to grab some treasure, but was erased by a javelin of lightning swallowing him whole.

Another had sneaked behind the robed man, only for a colossal, twisted dog head to appear from the cloak and tear the head off that Hevnoraak.

That inky, oily darkness spread, swallowing the valley, ignoring the Spells, and further birthing abominable beings that just refused to disappear. That just came back in greater numbers, with more limbs, more mouths, more eyes-

And the man just kept on laughing!

"My boy, just run!" Vulthuryol insisted from behind him, urgency within his voice, "Leave me behind! Go, damn it!"

Hevnoraak snarled, "I will not leave you behind! Not again!" He won't abandon the only one who had faith in him since young once more.

A Dragon Priest should die before their Dragon. The other way around was a shame that Hevnoraak, despite his cowardice, refused to bear.

"What a touching scene…" The voice of the other Undead in the valley reached Hevnoraak's ears as he felt yet another of his clones be torn apart.

Another attempted yet again to reach for his ruined temple, but Hevnoraak didn't even see what bisected it in half.

"Not laughing anymore, you bastard?" Hevnoraak questions, voice dripping with anger and nervousness, his staff once more humming as Water and Earth Magic synergized to launch forward a wave of mud that obscured the vision.

Only for it to freeze and shatter a second later, revealing the slowly approaching figure of the robed man dripping ink-black oil with each step he took. "I forgot what I was laughing about." The man muses, voice wistful.

Then pauses, "Oh yeah… I was thinking about killing you in a very, very painful way." The robed Undead states in a very cheerful voice, and Hevnoraak couldn't help but scoff out of pure derision.

"Undead don't feel pain." The Dragon Priest spits out harshly.

Yet, the Undead before him simply tilts his head, "Then why are you shivering from the cold?"

Hevnoraak comes to a stop. Slowly, he looks down at the hand holding his staff.

It was trembling.

Why did he feel cold?

How did he feel cold?

How did he feel?!

That's when he takes note of the dense mist. Of the cold clinging to him. Hevnoraak wanted to huddle on himself, to hide away from the cold near a warm fire, to… His mind was starting to feel slow.

Like he was tired.

Hevnoraak roars, terror and fury mixing together to drive him senseless, and his hand rises to aim the tip of the Fork of Horripilation at the Undead- A gauntlet-clad hand wraps around the fork, then squeezes.

A shattering sound fills the air, and Hevnoraak's prized stave and Artifact crumbles into shards before his very eyes.

The robed man draws his other arm back, and a golden barriers erupts into existence around Hevnoraak, who instantly plans to leap back and escape with Vulthuryol, thoughts of driving his opponent away-

The fist crashes through his golden Ward like it was made of glass, and the fist erupts into countless claws that cover Hevnoraak's face and head before yanking him out, shattering the rest of the golden Ward with his body.

"This is disappointing." The man muses, an underlying of fury within his seemingly calm voice as those purple flames stared fixedly at the struggling Dragon Priest within his grasp, "You are disappointing me."

"Champion of Sheogorath, my ass." The other hand rises, and the distorted eldritch limbs retreat so that only the two natural hands could grip the sides of Hevnoraak's skull, "What am I supposed to do with all this bottled up fury inside of me if you can't even give me a proper fucking fight!?"

His grip cracked Hevnoraak's skull, the limbs trembling from the intense anger that could affect even his non-living body in such a way.

"Let him go." Vulthuryol speaks, earning Leonidas' attention, purple flames flicking to stare at the heavily wounded Dragon's last remaining head from where the beast lay at the bottom of the hill, "It is me you want. So just let him go, please."

"My Lord-!" Hevnoraak starts, only to explode into a squeal of pain when sparks of Lightning Magic erupt around his form.

Using Lightning Magic on others was known as the worst type of torture in existence, and the pain was far greater for those that have large Magicka reserves.

Lightning Magic and Magicka interacted like two magnets. One was positive, the other negative. And Lightning Magic pushed Magicka out of the way, hence why it could so easily destroy Wards and other Magic Spells.

And when used on a body? One would feel their Magicka be forcefully and painfully pushed out of their bodies while also feeling the heat and electricity ravage their insides.

The sparks of Lightning died down after a second, leaving the Dragon Priest limp and whimpering from the horrifying pain. As he was a being held together by Magicka itself, this form of torture was even more painful for him.

Leonidas hums, keeping his gaze locked on the nervous Vulthuryol, "He seems to be really important for you, huh?" The Undead muses, and the Dragon slowly nodded.

"He is my pride." For Vulthuryol, those words were enough to describe their relationship.

Leonidas hums once more, "I guess then, that if you die, he'll be very, very sad…" Leonidas states, now speaking towards the Dragon Priest within his grasp.

Vulthuryol instantly has a bad feeling.

And that bad feeling is proven correct the very next second, "Guess now I know what to do with this bottled up fury of mine!" His cheerful voice echoes across the air right as azure flames and sparks of lightning flow across his arms.

"Please stop-!"

The scream that cut through the air like a hot knife and echoed across the valley was inhuman.

Hevnoraak wailed. He screamed. He squealed. And he struggled like a mad animal knowing he was about to be struggled.

His body was cloaked in raging azure flames and rumbling arcs of lightning that tore through him, breaking his mind with the most horrific pain imaginable.

His limbs flailed. He tried kicking, punching, slapping- But his bones just broke and failed, brittle and weak compared to the monster gleefully ending his existence in the most brutal way possible.

The azure flames burning Hevnoraak's form swelled into a massive pyre, the crackling of lightning turning into a clap of thunder that echoed with the screams of the tortured Dragon Priest.

Until the pyre swelled into an enormous pillar of flames that lit up the valley… The disappeared into azure embers.

Vulthuryol stared, horrified, as a Mask clattered to the ground right where Hevnoraak used to be.

His enormous form slowly inches back, shivering and trembling in fear.

The robed Undead dropped his arms to his sides, and just… Stared forward.

The setting Sun stood behind him, making that darkness covering his form appear even darker. More sinister. As if billions of things were hiding within it and were eager to escape through.

Vulthuryol breathes out, takes another step back-

Then freezes when, slowly, a pair of purple flames moves to look at him.

The Dragon cowers, whimpers, and turns around to flee-

The unsettling darkness swallows the valley.

And from it, a billion limbs and creatures erupt forth, clawing at the Dragon and tearing into him.

The valley was once more drowned in noise.

But this time, it was the noise of flesh being ripped apart, munched on, torn and flailed.

All the while, a Dragon screamed.

A.N. I dunno, I rewrote this chapter… Four times?

Still not satisfied. Am afraid y'all won't like it.

Dunno why, I just can't find the right mix of things.

Either way, this was a minor show of what Leo can do now, and the enormous power-up he recently gained.

Now, only the strongest Dragon Priests remain, all on par and way stronger than Deinmaar himself.

Am still disappointed with this chapter, but I doubt I could have done better.

Still, hope y'all enjoyed it even a little bit!

Toodles!

I, Draugr chapter 42

"Man, we got the fucker lookin' over his shoulder every two seconds now…" I muse as I watch Vulthuryol's very injured form scurry away in a panic, once more leading us to his next Flesh Pit.

"Daggah!" The mighty Poopdaggah cheers from beside me, though he ain't even looking at Vulthuryol's retreating form as one eye is staring at the ground and the other at the ceiling.

He must be calculating the immensity of Heaven and Earth, I see. Young Master Poopdaggah.

I turn my head as the crackling of flames grows louder and watch as Hildr releases a gargantuan gust of flames from one of her gloved hands, setting the large Flesh Pit alight with a disgusted look on her face.

"This makes what… Four?" She asks, turning her gaze away from the burning pool of crushed up meat, bones, muscles and blood.

"Yep." I nod, straightening myself as Vulthuryol disappears over a tall hill in the distance. "He shouldn't have that many left over."

"But considering he has been at it since the First Era…" Hildr sighs, clearly not really feeling hopeful.

I'd kill Vulthuryol instantly, if it were up to me, because I know that I'll likely devour the strength of his Soul the moment I destroy his body.

But then the remnant of it will shoot off towards the other Flesh Pits to regrow his body, because the bastard has left pieces of his old body in their depths so to leave a connection.

Though it'll leave him out of commission for a long while. Decades at most, centuries at best. But a vermin like him shouldn't be put aside.

A coward he may be, but he is cunning. This plan of his to basically invade the surface only got fucked because me, Deinmaar and Hildr are here, and because I sealed off the mountain during the initial attack.

That was the original attack. The invasion he has been planning for so long, hence why he was present and I felt him through Mind's Eye.

Had he taken the city by surprise, he'd have likely won due to the Mages being unable to unleash the Master Class Spells in their repertoire… Though maybe Savos Aren would've been able to repel Vulthuryol, maybe even slay him.

He is an Archmage for a reason, and in Kara's own opinion, he is 'decent enough', which is quite the compliment from possibly one of the strongest Mages in history.

Hell, he did manage to run away from Morokei, who Deinmaar stated he'd stand no fuckin' chance against. The guy was the Vice Leader of the Dragon Priest Council, after all.

Only Konahriik stood above him in status and strength, but she was in a league of her own, apparently.

So yeah, destroying Vulthuryol's body would just weaken his Soul… But not his Magicka, unfortunately. I believe his Magicka reserves are related to his body, hence why he makes use of Falmers to form it, because they have quite a bit of it in them.

Absorbing the majority of power from his Soul would be useless because he already can't use Shouts, even after devouring the Souls of the Dragons he betrayed so to have additional heads on his body.

My plan is to just destroy all of his Flesh Pits, then freeze his ass into a statue and leave him like that until Aurelia comes along to end him once and for all.

Hell, Vulthuryol clearly caught onto our plan, but he can't really fight back. He is absolutely terrified of me – mainly because I believe he realized that I fought Alduin with Deinmaar, or something.

Plus, he is terrified of Hildr too. He knows that weakened as he is, he won't last two minutes against her wolf form this time around.

"Can't believe there are beings that are so fucked up in the head to do this stuff…" Hildr's disgusted words pull me out of my thoughts, and making me notice the disturbed frown she threw towards the burning Flesh Pit.

I approach her and place a hand on her hip, pulling her against my side, something she happily leans into, "I kinda pity him, to be honest." I state, earning a soft hum from Hildr as she rests her head on my shoulder, "Vulthuryol is a rather pitiful existence. Broken from his inability of doing anything, even use his birthright… And it broke him."

"It doesn't excuse these horrors he has done for petty revenge and lust for power, but still…"

Countless centuries manipulating the Falmer that were here to just… mass breed each others like their were tools – because for him they were. I do not know how he avoided the Dwemer before they disappear, or if he even did at all.

So far, two of his Flesh Pits that we destroyed were inside the ruins of old Dwemer settlements, something he clearly started working on once they disappeared. He likely picks areas with soft soil that can be easily dug up to make a massive pit.

"Had he not bothered with these, he'd have had an enormous army." Hildr scoffs from my side, and I hum softly.

"I'm actually starting to doubt he'd want such an army constantly under his command." I point out, making Hildr shift her head on my shoulder so to look at me.

"The invasion of the surface was surely for petty revenge… But I think that now that Alduin is back, he wants to get within his good graces. And to do so, I think he plans on waking up the other Dragon Priests."

Hildr clicks her tongue, "And the only one that would have such knowledge is probably his own Dragon Priest, Hevnoraak." I nod, making her sigh deeply once more.

I turn my head to study the surroundings. Blackreach is mostly the same, with some old ruins of the Dwemer civilization strewn around here and there, enormous strange vegetation, but also barely any animals or insects and stuff like that.

But it is also enormous, as it just keeps on going and going in all directions. It is so far beneath the surface that I believe it also stretches below the ocean.

"It's a shame that we'll have to rush our trip through here…" I sigh, shaking my head and releasing Hildr so to turn and look back in the direction Vulthuryol fled to.

Hildr pauses, then gives me a look, "There's something important down here, isn't there?"

I chuckle at how sharp she is becoming at catching certain things in my words, "Yup. An Elder Scroll." Her eye goes wide at that, making me chuckle again.

Aurelia already mastered Dragon Rend, so it really isn't needed, but it still an incredibly powerful tool to have just in case. "Unfortunately, I don't know exactly where it is. Blackreach is too damn big to just search around blindly."

Hopefully, those up in Winterhold can start working on coming down here and make some form of base of operations. With that, we can then come back and start exploring.

Though that'll take a lot of time to set up for sure.

"Can we even use another one on Alduin?" Hildr questions, and I shrug. I honestly don't know.

"Those things hold immense power. I just want to recover this one just in case, but I don't plan to use it." The Elder Scrolls should be removed from the board, because I can't risk Alduin growing smart and cunning and seeking to use one himself.

But against us, instead. And if he doesn't, any of his Dragon Priests could come up with this idea.

I shake my head and snap back into focus, "Come on, let's go after Vulthuryol. He shouldn't have many Flesh Pits left."

Hildr nods and falls into steps with me, Poopdaggah far ahead of us and having already started to go after the Dragon by himself. The absolute chad, he plans on soloing Vulthuryol, huh? "So, it's your turn this time?"

Hildr asks, a wide grin on her face. We made bullying Vulthuryol a game, like how we had Poopdaggah deliver a magical nuke to the guy not so long ago.

Then Hildr decided to play along and just… dropped a literal inferno on Vulthuryol and his second Flesh Pit. The sadistic smile on her face at a time was quite sexy, not gonna lie.

Then Poopdaggah went again, with another Magical Nuke that he once more survived somehow. He only went because Hildr tried to get rid of him, but the small Riekling is downright OP.

He is strangely smart too, in fact. He can understand us easily, but he can't talk well, just mimic what we say, unlike some of the Rieklings in the game.

Wonder how he even got stuck down here…

"It is…" I muse and rub the chin of my mask, "How should I bully him this time?"

Hildr hums, then tilts her head, "He doesn't have an asshole for you to… Magically expand." We share a snort at that.

Now, what to do to further torture Vulthuryol…?

...

"I guess it is finally time for the Sheisty Undead to appear…"

He who sneaks on the opps. He who starts the jumping. He who mains Magik. He who created the term 'paranoia'.

Hildr pauses.

"The fucking what?"

I don't answer. I only cackle like the evil villain that I am.

This is gonna be fun.

~~XXX~~

He wasn't having fun. No, he was having a terrible time.

Everything had come crashing down, yet again. All of his efforts, all of his planning, all of his desires for revenge and power… It had all crashed before they barely even started.

Deinmaar lived and was there to thwart the invasion of the surface he had been planning for quite a few centuries now. He didn't even get to face against Lah or that damnable woman of his, no… He was instead thwarted by that damn traitor.

And that stupid Undead wearing Krosis' Mask. Who the hell was he? Where did he come from? Why did he feel so… Weird?

As a Dragon, he was constantly aware of the river of time. He could see how all beings – even Dragons – flowed alongside it… But not that Undead.

No, that Undead was a giant rock being battered by the waters of the river of time, and not flinching or breaking or being reduced to powder.

He was standing against the flow of time itself. He was standing against his Father.

And he lived.

What was he? What made him such an Anomaly? Why did his Father allow that thing to exist?

Vulthuryol did not know, and he was close to not caring anymore. All he wanted was to kill that Undead… But he was too weak. Like always.

First Lah and that dumb woman of his. Then Deinmaar, and now this unknown Undead?

Everything just kept going wrong. All he needed was to push his army to the surface and then create a foothold for the Dragons on the continent.

With that gained, they could recall the last remaining Dragon Priests to their side and start rebuilding their forces.

He may not have been loyal to the cause in the past, but now was different. He had betrayed countless of his brothers to rip apart their bodies and heads to add to his own, he had tried so hard to survive, to grow stronger…

And then he realized how much better their life was back then, back in the their grand capital. Back when they ruled, back when they had everything.

It all felt hopeless… Until he felt Alduin's return. With him, his brothers could return, their mighty army could be rebuilt, and they could finally regain all that they had lost.

Right?

A chill goes down Vulthuryol's long spine, one of his now remaining three heads turning to look behind him as he neared his last and biggest Flesh Pit.

Why did he feel like he was being watched?

The ruins of the old city cracked and shifted loudly beneath his form – did he just see someone peek out from behind a destroyed wall of an old home? – as he moved across the rubble and remains.

He had flattened all the buildings himself a long time ago, right after the Dwemer Race had disappeared, giving him access to his way back to the surface.

One of their strange contraption they called an 'Elevator'. The pillar of yellowed metal stood tall and proud, dwarfing his width and piercing up into the ceiling above.

This is how he took trips to the surface, called some of his weaker brothers to him, then killed them for their bodies.

He never lingered around for too long, afraid that Lah would come to finish the job and find a way to seal his Dragon Soul on the spot and not let it flee to the buried remnants of his old corpse.

Reaching the bottom of the elevator, with the surrounding area being a massive Flesh Pit, Vulthuryol glances back with one of heads once more – Okay, this time he totally did see a figure hide behind a piece of rubble. He wasn't going crazy.

He wasn't!

And then the head looking towards the elevator saw it. A dark hooded figure peeking out from behind one of the yellowed metal pipes before hiding back behind it.

That figure was just behind him! How did it get in front of him so fast?! What is going on!?

"Show yourself, coward!" He roars, shaking the air with the might of his yell, all three heads staring in different directions, seeking to grab even a small hint of that quickly moving hooded figure.

And then the appearance of the hooded figure kept ramping up, always in the corner of his eyes. Sometimes it peeked from behind a wall, other times he catches it just in time to see it walk behind one, one time he even caught it walking towards him before it paused and walked backward and back into hiding.

"S-Show yourself!" He just stuttered! He stuttered! Him! A Dragon! Such humiliation-!

In his anger – fear – he started blasting flaming breaths out of his three jaws in all directions, uncaring of damaging the Flesh Pit before him-

And then he felt a stabbing pain in his back. Nothing bad, and he'd have usually ignored such a sting… But not this time.

His jaws stop spewing flames, and all three of his heads slowly turn to look at his tail.

There, the cloaked figure he kept seeing in the corner of his eyes stood… A whole arm deep inside the flesh of his tail. The other one? Waving at him. "You kinda lack an asshole, so I made ya a new one! Hope you don't mind!"

That damnable Undead! "You alright? You was tweaking out a bit back there…"

"That's because of you!" Vulthuryol involuntarily roars, nearly flexing his tail to launch the bastard away from him, but he stopped himself, knowing that the Mage could throw a devastating Spell within his body at any time.

"Me?" The Undead innocently points at his Krosis Mask, "I'll have you know I am innocent. I've never done anything bad in my whole life!"

Vulthuryol faintly heard someone coughing and going "Bullshit." beneath their breath, but he ignored that part so to glare at the Undead.

"What do you want?" He demands, his voice dripping with hate while his claws dug into the ground at the edges of his biggest and last Flesh Pit.

The Undead hums, taking his time to state his words, annoying Vulthuryol even further, "How many Flesh Pits ya got left?"

Vulthuryol growls and flexes his claws, "One more." He lies, knowing that the Undead has no way to tell if he has more or not. If he manages to get away from this confrontation too… Then he can escape to another Elevator to the surface. He knows where all of them are, luckily enough.

"Hmm…" The Undead hums, clearly not willing to believe his words. And that seed of doubt delighted Vulthuryol.

And then a blinding flash erupts. His tail is carved off from his body, and a javelin of light stabs deep into the Flesh Pit and erases that part of his body hidden deep within.

Vulthuryol howls from the pure agony of having Lightning Magicka cause havoc through his body, but he controlled his roll and used it go get closer to the Elevator, already open and waiting for him to use it. "You damnable vermin-"

His roar came to a pause, all of his eyes widening and his heads turning towards the ceiling.

He heard it. He definitely just heard it. Someone called his name… No, not just any someone… That was Hevnoraak!

Gushes of flames erupt out of his jaws, and with a slam of his claws, his Flesh Pit erupts upward. Healing with it was slow, but utilizing it to create Fleshcrafted monstrosities? That was very, very fast.

And so, the whole remaining Flesh Pit became a gargantuan colossus of flesh, bone, meat and blood as beneath the cover of his flames, while he pushed himself back into the elevator.

"Just you wait, you bastard!" He roars as his claw flicks the small lever, causing the elevator to groan and for the gates to slam shut. "I will take my revenge for this humiliation!" His Fleshcrafted golem is frozen solid, then shattered into powder.

The gate sealing the elevator suddenly gains a massive hole through it, and one of his heads bursts like a bubble, sending pure agony through Vulthuryol once more.

But the elevator soon starts rising, and he can only grit his teeth and wait to finally lay claim to his revenge.

First, he needs to regroup with his loyal Dragon Priest and heal, then they can start plotting once more…

What Vulthuryol did not see though, was a frozen chain attach itself to the bottom of his elevator as it started going up.

~~XXX~~

A hole is punched through the bottom of the elevator, and I swiftly help Hildr climb up, trying not too hard to stare at her ass as she goes.

Once she is up, I climb right after, with Poopdaggah hanging from my foot.

The ride on the elevator took what must've been an hour or two, but it was worth it.

Vulthuryol helped us destroy that giant Flesh Pit without destroying the elevator, and we were able to swiftly follow after him.

"He's gone…" Hildr states, her shoulders sagging as she looks at the snow gathered outside, the pile of it having been smashed aside by a massive figure, and it is now left drenched in blood.

I don't like it. That reaction from Vulthuryol before he ran… He looked up at the ceiling for some reason, and I don't like it one bit.

I don't even know if we destroyed all the Flesh Pits, but hopefully we have…

"Let's go. We'll go back to Winterhold." I tell Hildr, leading the way outside so take in our surroundings.

We are exactly beneath the mountains, in what appears to be ruins utterly buried beneath the snow, enough so that only the golden round roofs of the tallest buildings are visible.

The good news is that we can see a city far ahead of us, near the coast. Dawnstar.

"I have money on me, so we can grab a pair of horses." Hildr states, and I nod.

"You sure you don't want to grab a bite to eat first?" I ask her, faint worry in my voice. We must've been down there for a full day, after all.

When we started the battle, it was somewhere around late morning. Now? It's early morning.

Hildr smiles sweetly at my words, "I'm used to going with a few days without eating, Leo." She states softly, but that doesn't make me relax.

I sigh and shake my head, and Hildr warmly bumps her shoulder against mine, "And then you wonder why I am attracted to you." I look at her as she walks forward, humming a cheerful tune as the snow crunches beneath her boots.

I feel like we've gotten so much closer now after our talk. Like an invisible wall between us was torn down, letting us be more honest with each other. More open.

It feels… Freeing.

And honestly? It makes me want to have this talk with Aurelia too.

Gods, I miss her so damn much.

She must've grown a lot. I should probably take up drawing, so that I can draw her whenever we are apart, so that I don't forget how beautiful she looks like.

My gaze strays back to Hildr. Both her and Aurelia both.

"Daggah…" I look down as our Riekling friend pulls at my robes, drawing my attention. His eyes do not stare at me, but… Was he worried about me?

"I'm alright, buddy." I reassure the little weird dude, "Just matters of love. Always hard to handle, ya know?"

"Daggah…" He nods, surprisingly enough. If he can get laid, then there is hope for everyone in existence.

Patting the little dude's head, I move to follow after Hildr.

The walk is quiet and is a single straight path to the Dawnstar Hold, since the snow around the mountains has piled up so high that perhaps half of the mountain's height is hidden beneath it.

As we walk, I throw a look back at the buried ruins behind us. Vulthuryol had clearly taken flight right after leaving the elevator, but that is not what I am focused on.

Time really is cruel, huh?

What must've been a small settlement, abandoned in the blink of an eye.

My thoughts stray back to that small home I used to let Hildr rest. The table assorted with silverware and set plates, the chairs pushed back to show a family sitting at the table and eating.

And then the silverware on the ground, showing the moment in time they ceased to exist.

I don't think I'll ever forget that sight.

It didn't take long to reach Dawnstar, and we didn't waste time to ask for directions to the stables – while I also had to keep Poopdaggah from murdering anyone that stared at him for more than two seconds.

He did keep screaming 'Bomboclat!' in their general direction while flailing wildly though. I'd say that teaching him that word would be bad… But honestly? It nearly makes me die of laughter each time.

With the horses gained, we swiftly shot down the road leading to the gap between the two mountains that are close to Winterhold. We don't waste time with idle chatter, mostly because I feel a strange sense of urgency inside me.

Why is that, though?

Is it because of how Vulthuryol acted? Of how he fled so fast after staring at the ceiling for some reason?

Or is because of the nearly twelve-thousand Souls in my hold, just begging to be used?

I am so mentally tired that thinking of an appropriate power-up to lead my class or Spells into is just… Incredibly taxing, to say the least.

I've tried. In the small amount of time I've been in Blackreach, I tried to come up with ideas. With how to push my Evolution once more. Or Evolutions.

And the Spells I could gain after.

I tried… Yet all I could focus on was that darkness, the one lingering at the edge of my vision, just begging to be given attention. Just begging for me to reach out.

I'd say that sometimes my thoughts wander towards scary places… But I just find myself spacing out, not remembering what I was thinking about in the first place.

I don't know what this calling is, what this yearning that I feel from this darkness at the edge of my vision means… But I don't like it. Not one bit.

Early morning turns into late morning, then the afternoon comes just as the walls of Winterhold enter our line of sight and our horses round up on them.

Quite a lot of guards stood upon the walls and perked up at our arrival, but swiftly recognized us, "It's Leonidas and Hildr! Go tell Lord Deinmaar!"

They started calling him Lord? Oh, I know the big guy doesn't like it one bit and is grumbling about it.

We enter past the gate and dismount our horses, some of the guards walking over to take the horses off our hands. "Go ahead towards the inn. And welcome back!"

"What the fuck is that thing?"

"I don't know but I don't wanna look at it."

"Bomboclat…" Poopdaggah grunted out, looking just about done with the day as he drags his bare feet. He isn't even looking around curiously, showing that he is used to people and civilization. How curious.

I resist the great urge to teach him nasty words and vile insults and just take the lead in walking towards the inn. Deinmaar tends to spend his time in the lobby there with the old man, so that's probably why the guards sent us that way.

"Brother!" A call makes me perk up, and chuckle when Deinmaar's enormous figure enters my line of sight, his helmet off to allow his long mane of dark hair to cascade down his back, a smile on his handsome face.

Guess he wasn't at the inn then. "Hope ya didn't miss me too much, big guy." I greet him right back, earning a chuckle from the giant as he clasps my hand in his and uses the other one to pat my shoulder.

"I never had a doubt you'd come back." He smiles, then turns to Hildr and gives her a low nod, "I was more worried when we couldn't find the lady here."

Hildr nervously rubbed the back of her neck, and I pointed an accusatory finger her way, "She jumped after me. I did nothing."

"Oh fuck you!" I don't react at the fireball that slaps against my face, but Deinmaar does laugh, the visible tension in his shoulders melting further.

"But yeah, it all went well. We destroyed all of Vulthuryol's Flesh Pits, far as I know, before he made a run to the surface for some reason…" I shrug, though Deinmaar frowns and looks between Hildr and me. "What?"

He pauses, then breathes in and crosses his arms, "So you did not hear it, then…" He shakes his head and sighs deeply, "Vulthuryol was called. Hevnoraak is awake."

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

"There's more…" Deinmaar shakes his head, but then smiles and perks up, "But before that, there is someone who has been dying to meet the both of you." I tilt my head at that, any worry and dark thoughts at Hevnoraak being awake and free from his seal temporarily forgotten.

And a cry reaches me before I can ask who might be looking for us, "Leo!" That familiar voice makes both me and Hildr freeze, but I swiftly recover as Deinmaar steps to the side.

A small child runs down the street and towards us, short red hair flapping through the air and tears streaming down her happy and grinning, mischievous face. "Gretel?"

The young girl leaps into my arms, snapping me back into focus as laughter flows out of me without my control, "Oh my god! What the hell are you doing here, you damn beautiful gremlin!" I spin her around, filling my ears with that lovely, happy childish squeal of hers, her legs kicking in the air.

"I missed you so much!" Gretel cries out, latching herself around my neck desperately as I hug her tightly, her soft sniffling and cries filling the air.

Then she shifted and moved to stare at Hildr, whose eye was wide in shock, but was also overflowing with tears. And Gretel was soon snatched out of my arms when the small girl reached towards her big sister, who started filling her face with kisses without wasting a second.

I chuckle at the sight, watching Hildr all but melt against the girl we both adore so damn much.

But my attention is soon stolen by another figure walking down the road, and I turn to give them my full attention before I freeze when recognition strikes.

Long, wavy silver hair. Pale skin, shining nigh-purple eyes, and dark armor that hugged her lovely curves perfectly.

Gods, she is so damn beautiful…

She looks so different. So mature, so… Alive.

This is the young woman who didn't even know who she was. What her likes were, or her dislikes.

Aurelia stops in front of me, her eyes having always been focused on me and only me, her hands behind her back as her eyes shine with pure adoration and warmth, her wonderful lips stretched into a small smile that conveyed all of her emotions. "Missed me?"

Her voice was like music to me. Like a melody that I've craved for so long. Like a drug that I need in order to keep going forward in life.

My hand shakes as I reach up to cup her cheek, and her eyes close as she leans into the touch.

"You're even more beautiful than the last day we were together." Her cheeks bloom with a fierce blush – Deinmaar clearly stole the words I just said. I hope Konahriik will give you the same reaction, buddy! – but she doesn't pull away. Instead, she just hums softly and happily.

And suddenly, I understand.

If Hildr is the one that holds my hand and walks with me, then Aurelia is my guiding light. The one that drives away the horrors that my tired mind tries to conjure. The ones that I refuse to focus on.

She steps forward, and her arms wrap around me.

And just like that, that darkness at the edge of my vision is driven away. My fatigue disappears. My mental exhaustion is gone.

For this one moment, in which I am holding her after so long, I feel truly refreshed.

And then the moment is broken when Gretel speaks up, "Big sis, your man is getting stolen."

Aurelia yelps and leaps away from me with a fierce blush while Hildr chokes on air, then slaps the grinning gremlin over the head, "We are wolves, but clearly Aurelia wants that bone too, huh?" Said woman releases a sound akin to a boiling tea-kettle while Deinmaar nearly keels over with laughter.

I can't blame him, because I am laughing too. "Man, I missed you so damn much, you wonderful brat." I pat Gretel on the head, making her eyes shine happily as her grin turns warm and happy.

Shaking my head, I focus back on the shyly shifting Aurelia, "Not that I mind seeing you again, but how come you and Gretel are here?"

Aurelia swiftly calms down when I give her the chance to ignore Gretel's previous words, "Paarthurnax said that I am done with my training, and that I should now explore and test things by myself." I nod in understanding at that, while Aurelia nods towards Gretel, "And that was roughly around the time when Whiterun came under siege of around three dozen Dragons."

Hildr instantly snaps her gaze down at Gretel in worry, but the gremlin just crosses her arms and sniffs haughtily, "I killed one of 'em!" …So this gremlin is OP as hell too?

Aurelia nods with a light laugh, "She did. Something about a massive wolf form you two can take?" Hildr flinches, but nods and ruffles Gretel's hair.

"I told her not to use it lightly. Guess the situation called for it?" Hildr questions, and Gretel nods.

"Son of a bitch landed on the goddamn kitchen." Okay yeah, that warranted using that power, I guess. I'd be mad too, not gonna lie.

I turn to Deinmaar and nod towards Gretel, "She did anything crazy while being here?"

The Atmoran tilts his head in consideration, "She spent a good few hours with the old man, with the two cursing at each other for some reason the whole time." He then shrugs, "And I've heard rumors of people getting stabbed in the shins recently but…"

Okay yeah, that's Gretel alright. Barely got here that she already started problems. I love her so much.

I turn back to Aurelia right after, "Is Whiterun alright?" She nods with a reassuring smile, allowing me to relax.

"I got there pretty much instantly, but they had already finished the job. I just had to handle a Dragon Saint." I pause at that.

"You fought a Dragon Saint?" She nods, puffing her chest with pride as she smiles smugly.

I cup both of her cheeks with my hands and give them a squeeze, "You're so damn cool, you silly woman!" She laughs and whines as I mess with her face, my voice overflowing with praise and pride in her.

Still, I pull back soon after and allow myself to calm down. I can shower both her and Gretel in love and hugs later, or even ask how Aurelia and Deinmaar's first meeting went, but first…

"Right…" I sigh and shake my head, getting serious once more, "You mentioned that there was something else?"

Aurelia nods, then points her thumb at the sword attached to her back, "Lady Meridia informed me of Hevnoraak being awake and having escaped the seal he was in…"

"She also told me to be careful, as he is the Champion of the previous Sheogorath."

Great, just what we needed.

Of course the fraud ain't a fraud anymore.

I sigh and cross my arms, "In that case, as much as I'd rather just take some time off to relax, especially since Aurelia and Gretel are here,-" Said woman flushes happily at my words, "-I think it is best we go after him now."

Deinmaar nods in agreement, a heavy frown on his face, "The only problem is finding the ruins he is hiding in. You did say that they are somewhere in the ruins south-west of Skyrim, right?"

I nod at that, though I perk up when I notice the cunning grin on Aurelia's face. "What if we had aerial view of the mountains?"

I pause at that, "Are you implying what I think you are implying?"

Her cute grin turns smug, "The Dragon Saint I defeated now listens to me, so I can call upon him and have him give us a ride there. Like so, we won't waste days traveling on horse-back-"

"-And we'll find the ruins just as fast…" Deinmaar finishes, his eyes widening in realization. "I'll go retrieve my equipment." I pat his arm and nod as he swiftly hurries away to retrieve his helmet and greatsword.

I turn my head to look at Hildr, who has a breathtaking happy smile on her face as she hugs Gretel and holds her up like the little gremlin is a teddy bear, but the small girl is just kicking her legs happily without care.

I reach over and pat her head, making her release a peal of adorable childish giggles that makes me relax so damn much. "So… Did I miss any lovey dovey times between you and my Big Sis?"

Hildr's face goes red, and she swiftly pinches her cackling little sister's cheek to admonish her. Not that it works. "Quite a few, yes!" I declare with a sniff, making Hildr squeak and gape at me, her face now even more red, "Can't you see how beautiful I made her?"

All I did was make – force – her to go on runs and shove food down her throat. That's it.

Those runs did wonders to her ass and thighs, so I gotta pat myself on the back.

I turn to Aurelia and hold back a chuckle at the pouting glare she throws my way, "No pouts. I just don't have words to describe how beautiful you are." Like Hildr, Aurelia yelps and flushes at my words, "Hildr is sexy as fuck-" I ignore the fireball that smashes against the side of my skull, "And you are several levels above breathtaking."

I cross my arms and nod my head sagely, while Gretel gapes at me, then at the two flushed ladies looking anywhere but me, clearly shy but happy. "Damn, dude…"

"Daggah…" And then Poopdaggah makes his presence known, and Gretel looks at the Riekling.

"Oh right!" I perk up and wave a hand towards the small ugly creature, "This is Poopdaggah, the mightiest of Rieklings."

Aurelia and Gretel look at Poopdaggah, who uses one eye to look at Gretel and the other to look at Aurelia. "Poopdaggah!" He introduces himself while scratching his ass like the gentleman that he is.

"Yeah, I ain't even gonna ask…" Gretel nods and turns away. Though I have a feeling that she and Poopdaggah shall become the greatest partners in crime in the future.

Turning to look at the Riekling, I give the small guy a pat on the shoulder, "You'll have to hang back for a bit, buddy. Try not to get yourself killed, alright?"

The Riekling nods, "Poopdaggah…" Then proceeds to walk down a random street.

Go forth and terrorize the people, my friend.

I turn back to the group just as I see Deinmaar returning, the dragon-like helmet covering his head and his enormous greatsword attached to his back, "Come on, let's go outside so we can call the Dragon."

Aurelia nods and skips forward with a smile on her face, leading the way back to the walls then outside into the snowy roads outside of Winterhold.

Deinmaar turns back and waves at the guard, motioning them to stand back and momentarily close the gates as Aurelia stops walking and breathes in.

"O-Dah-Viing!"

The skies rumble at her call, and I lean back in surprise at the name she just shouted.

So the Dragon Saint she fought was actually Odahviing, huh? Guess he needed to be strong in order to be considered the right-hand Dragon of Alduin.

Even Deinmaar clearly recognized the name, seeing the way he visibly perked up.

A roar resounds across the sky soon after, and the very clouds seem to shift as something flies past at immense speeds.

The surrounding hills of snow are sent in the air as the massive form of a purplish Dragon appears before us in the blink of an eye.

Jesus Christ, this guy is mad fast… And Aurelia defeated him?

That's sexy as hell.

Odahviing lands gently on the ground and bows his head in greeting towards Aurelia, before he lifts his head and turns towards Deinmaar, "Ah, Deinmaar… I am glad to see you alive and well."

Odahviing's genuine words surprise the Atmoran quite a bit, "You… Do not care about my betrayal?"

The Dragon chuckles deeply, "It allowed me to have a fantastic battle and die at the hands of a mighty warrior, so why would I care?" Guess he is a bit of a battle maniac?

But also a Dragon that honors his wins and losses, it seems. "Have you seen Vulthuryol?" Aurelia questions, cutting to the chase and making the Dragon turn towards her.

Strangely, he goes momentarily silent, "...I believe it is best I show you, Dovahkiin. Rise upon my back, you all." Turning to his side, the Dragon offers us his wing to let us rise on his back.

I turn towards Hildr and glance at Gretel, but decide to remain quiet. I can't separate the two of them after they just got back together.

I'll just have to make sure Hevnoraak doesn't notice Gretel and tries to use her as a way to distract us.

Still, Odahviing's words do not make me feel good, and the darkness at the edges of my vision returns.

Rising on his back, we all grabbed one of his dorsal spines and held on tight as the Dragon rose and flapped his wings.

The air snapped like the sound of a whiplash, and suddenly we were right beneath the clouds, and another flap of wings carried us further south.

I turn my head, watching as Winterhold turns into a dot in the distance and we fly past Windhelm right after, leaving the cold climate behind for a sunnier one.

Twisting, Odahviing flies towards the immense mountain that is High Hrothgar, but doesn't rise up and instead circles around it.

I take notice of Deinmaar looking in a certain direction as we fly close to High Hrothgar, and I follow his line of sight and tilt my head.

He is staring towards Arcwind Point, huh?

As Odahviing turns once more, he speaks up loudly enough for us to hear him over the rushing wind, "Look to the right." I turn my head just as the immense wall that is High Hrothgar disappears, and the first thing I see is a tall and wide column of black smoke.

"Oh, no…" Aurelia whispers, and I breathe in.

Riverwood is gone. Destroyed and set on fire together with the surrounding forest.

The hand holding onto the dorsal spine clenches tightly- "No, no, no…" My head snaps towards Hildr, her lone eye wide with horror and terror as she stares forward… Towards a second column of black smoke.

This one rising from the distant Falkreath.

"Odahviing…" Aurelia speaks softly, "Please, land in front of the city ahead of us…"

The Dragon says nothing, but he starts gliding down as we leave the destroyed Riverwood far behind us.

We barely even touch down before Gretel leaps out of Hildr's arms and jumps down from from Odahviing's back, "Granny!" Her loud scream tears something in me.

Slowly, I walk down Odahviing's wing as Hildr rushes after Gretel, with Aurelia right behind her.

But I can only watch. I can only watch as that child rushes towards the pile of burning ruins that used to be Falkreath.

I can only watch as she loudly screams for her Granny while Hildr and Aurelia try to calm her down and soothe her.

I can only watch as the consequences of my lack of action harm the child who is like a little sister for me.

I should have killed Vulthuryol. I should have ended him right then and there, even if he would have come back after a while.

But no. Instead, I was fucking around, having fun, and not thinking of the bigger picture.

I was too busy latching onto my coping mechanism for how fucking tired I am that I lost sight of what I am supposed to do. I didn't even think that if Vulthuryol fled from us and retreated back to Hevnoraak, he'd likely fly close to Falkreath.

I could excuse this lack of foresight on the fact that I am beyond tired, that I am starting to struggle with thinking ahead… But no.

I'm just fucking done.

[Class Evolutioafewfnage]

I tilt my head slightly when the System seems to… Glitch.

[HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!]

Loud, mad and ecstatic laughter roars within my mind as the darkness at the edges of my vision suddenly becomes very, very welcoming.

[All 11'478 Souls have been used!]

[Your Class has Evolved!]

[Enjoy!]

[The Mad Dreamer]

The horrors that hide beneath the bed. Those that peek out of the closet. Those that follow you up the stairs when the lights turn off.

That senseless fear, that horrid paranoia, given shape.

Those faceless creatures, given life by the fear of the unknown, and then brought into existence by a Dreamer.

You walk upon Nirn, while your Shadow drags the Asylums along.

I hum.

"Brother…" Deinmaar calls softly.

My gaze rests on the small, crying child within Aurelia's and Hildr's arms, her cries louder than the crackling of the flames.

Then, I raise my gaze up, towards the mountains in the distance.

My shadow blooms, and a darkness darker than a starless night expands forth.

And from it, an eldritch monstrosity with far too many eyes, mouths, wings and limbs steps out.

Before taking hold of me and yanking me into the skies, all the while I hum cheerfully.

Time to cut loose, I guess!

A.N. And cut!

This chapter was supposed to end on a high note with the party getting back together, but it didn't feel… Right. It felt wrong.

So I had to push it a bit forward… And finally write something I've been looking forward to.

Leonidas snapping.

Next chapter will come out fast, as I already have it all planned out, and writing it will be easy.

After that… Finally, the Saarthal Arc will start, then Serana!

Look forward to the next chapter, folks!

Toodles!

P.S. The system parts were supposed to have a line cutting through them, but Patreon does not have that for some reason, so they came out normal... Bah.

I, Draugr Chapter 41

I hate the darkness.

This is… Mostly new.

When I was young, I was terrified of it. I hated being unable to not see my surroundings, or to not have a clear line of sight. I just hated it so much that it became fear.

One that I kept into my late teens, where I always slept with a small light on… Then I grew out of it, but I do not remember when exactly.

And now… Now it is back. Maybe I am afraid now too, but I've grown to forget what fear feels like due to being unable to even feel pain.

Even when Alduin came to specifically kill me, I did not fear him one bit.

But now, I am afraid of the dark. Of the dark that refuses to leave, even when my eyes are open.

At a certain point, I became thankful that I couldn't close them. That I can't make everything go dark in a split second and be left alone with my imagination.

But it's there. Never leaving, and always pressing down on me, like a calling. A yearning.

Sometimes I just want to give in. To embrace it, so that I don't have to always flee from it, to rush to light a candle or hope that the Moon is brighter that night.

I sigh, wishing I could scratch my chin and feel it. Or… Well, be able to move.

In hindsight, jumping into an abyss that was likely several kilometers deep really wasn't the smartest idea, even if I have my Juggernaut armor to tank the hit.

Why?

Because I am around… Two dozen meters beneath the ground I crash-landed on?

I've always wanted to be a meteorite!

Not gonna lie, I expected to end up much deeper, but the ground is very likely incredibly hard. Funnily enough, the pit I smashed Vulthuryol dumbass into is right next to me.

Dunked his ass into the earth. That had to have hurt a lot.

Hopefully Hildr is alright… I made extra sure that her landing was going to be painless, but I still worry, and last time I checked on her through Mind's Eye, she was walking while hunched over.

The ice armor around my body crackles as I start flexing my arms, moving to get out of the hole I smashed into- But I stop the moment that I notice that everything starts… Shaking?

What the fuck?

A sound reaches my 'ears', still being insanely loud despite how deep underground I am.

Was that a fucking howl!?

A Draconian Howl instantly obliterates any rubble pinning me down, opening the hole for me to swiftly stand up- Then freeze when I notice the very hole I am in growing smaller.

Because the ground is melting and becoming a massive pool of glowing magma.

Freezing the ground and magma, I rise up to ground level as the tremors that kept shaking the ground grow distant, with roars and howls mixed in loud clashes.

Taking in my surroundings, I instantly correct a previous statement. Forget the pool… It's an ocean.

Magma everywhere I can see, the heat so high that the air is warping enough that I can barely see, but as I follow the sounds of battle and howling, I manage to catch glimpse of a gargantuan figure battling Vulthuryol.

A giant wolf cloaked in white-hot flames. The giant beast was tearing into Vulthuryol with a ferocity and ruthlessness that was mindless. Feral, even.

The giant wolf was crazed and bloodthirsty, tearing into Vulthhuryol with jaws and sharp claws to rip apart as much flesh and blood as possible.

Is that Hildr…?

She told me about it. About the Werewolf form only few had the honor of using, and one that had family had spent generations and countless years to breed the strongest one.

Hildr's parents never loved her. Neither her or Gretel. They were born just to keep this thing going, to maintain their Champion breeding streak.

The only one who changed due to old age was her grandma, who truly started to adore her and Gretel from young…

And then Hildr transformed while Gretel was but a baby, and she basically erased her parents from existence. All she knows is that her Grandma was the one to force her back to normal by taking her eye, but she doesn't remember what she did when she transformed.

All of that power forced into a small, mortal container. Hildr was effectively a Demigod.

If she could control this power of hers…

I shake away those thoughts and swiftly freeze a path forward, rushing ahead and towards the constantly moving battle.

Vulthuryol was getting absolutely decimated and humiliated. He isn't a strong Dragon, after all. He is more akin to a cockroach…

But I can see it, even from here. He is weaponizing his uselessness.

His wounds are healing with the help of Restoration Magic at an impressive rate, closing and going back to normal in the span of just a few seconds.

His jaws spewed out gargantuan arcs of lightning that gouged into the earth as he tried to hit the nimble and feral wolf that tanked each hit like it was nothing.

And then there were the subtle Alteration Spells here and there. A shift in the ground to make Hildr slip, a quagmire here that would that be a small hindrance before it becomes a molten pool…

Basic Spells, but overcharged with Magicka to make them powerful.

The normal Heal from the Restoration Magic, usually meant to heal small scratches, now used to heal deep gouges by being super-charged.

The weak Sparks Spell, recognizable due to its shitty accuracy. Super-charged with Magicka, it leaves deep trenches into the ground and stone it hits.

The shifting of the ground, making it move and making it soft, just at a far greater scale.

Very likely due to his Fleshcrafted body, Vulthuryol must have a gargantuan amount of Magicka… Something he weaponizes to make his uselessness more powerful.

Clever… But not enough.

Because despite all that… Four of his nine heads have already been turned to ashes by Hildr. He couldn't heal that kind of damage.

I kept running, drawing closer and closer to the battle even as I took notice of how Hildr was swiftly growing weaker and weaker. Her flames weren't glowing as brightly, nor was she creating huge pools of magma beneath her anymore.

Plus, she wasn't as nimble or as fast as before, and Vulthuryol was starting to land more and more blows on her form.

All that power obviously comes at a cost, and the mere fact that she is able to stay in that form for a couple of minutes speaks of how strong she is.

A javelin of lightning booms within my right hand, then cracks apart the sound-barrier as I hurl it forward without wasting a second.

Vulthuryol barely has time to react, a lone head turning to regard the incoming giant javelin of lightning in a mixture of fury, horror and shock before it pierces into his large side and through the other, punching a large hole through his whole snake-like body.

A furious roar of pain leaves his jaws, but that was another mistake of his. The head that turned to regard my incoming attack soon had serrated jaws clamped around it, before it is violently and brutally ripped off the neck it was attached to.

Blood sprays everywhere, and Hildr squeezes her jaws shut, pulverizing the skull and swallowing the rest, her form starting to visibly shrink with each passing second.

Still, the damage was done. Vulthuryol looked terrified – he really is as much of a coward as Kara had said – and wary of both me and Hildr, and he was trying and failing to heal the hole I left in his body.

Five heads are gone, and after a few wary glances between me and Hildr, the serpentine Dragon swiftly turns and starts scurrying away without wasting a second.

Which is very good. He'll leave a trail of blood leading us to wherever he has made his nest and conducts all of his disgusting Fleshcrafting stuff.

I watch him go for a few seconds before turning my attention towards the giant wolf that is Hildr, heavy pants leaving her jaws as she stumbles forward with a tired growl, trying and failing to give chase to Vulthuryol.

"Hildr!" I shout, instantly making her attention snap towards me, a growl flowing past her flaming jaws as she tenses up. Her lone eye is filled with a madness that clouds it, confirming that she isn't in control of herself.

And I'm not going to attack her to make her snap out or tire her out. "It's me, girl." I say, spreading my arms as I keep approaching her, letting my Juggernaut armor fall apart and disappear.

Her growl is weaker this time, a flash of clarity flying by her lone eye. She shakes her head and paws at it soon after, a low whine leaving her.

I step closer, and her flames disperse, leaving behind her gorgeous crimson fur. "It's alright. I'm here." I reassure her as gently as I can, reaching forward to place a hand on her lowered snout.

Another whine leaves her as she leans into the touch, and soon the shrinking of her form grows faster and faster until what I am touching turns into Hildr's cheek.

Luckily, her clothes are still on her, somehow. Her eye flutters open, tired and weak, and she tries to say something before she slumps forward and into my arms, completely unconscious.

I don't waste a second in picking her up in a princess carry, holding her close as I inspect my surroundings.

An enormous cave, vast and stretching in all directions all the way to the horizon. The massive hole we fell from is not far, but is very high up.

It makes me wonder how Vulthuryol had the Falmer rush up from it, but whatever. They are all dead too, for that matter, utterly vaporized by the Vasavi Shakti that slammed the serpentine Dragon back down here.

Doesn't matter. Right not the most important thing for me is making sure Hildr is alright and will be safe.

But no matter where I look, I can't find any ruins I can use for a make-shift base to rest momentarily, so I just shrug and decide to follow after Vulthuryol.

Might as well see if I can find something while cutting the distance he put between us.

So, holding Hildr close, I start the long and quiet walk.

But my head doesn't remain quiet.

For it keeps replaying those last words Hildr shouted at me before we fell.

                                                                    ….

I gotta admit… Blackreach has a whole lot of nothing to offer in terms of sights.

Yes, the strange exotic plants and weird, glowing and floating thingies that are very likely living beings are indeed fascinating, but they get old very fast.

One thing that doesn't grow old instead are instead the sights of just how rich in resources this place is. There are ore veins left and right, and everywhere I look and walk.

Plus, the alchemical ingredients. I recognize some due to mostly having gone through a book about them that Ancano kindly left behind, and quite a few of these ingredients I saw in great quantities are said to be 'rare and hard to grow' in the book.

Blackreach has to have some insanely bullshit fertile grounds, because the ecosystem is just thriving. Though it lacks animals and predators, strangely enough.

Perhaps they were all killed by the Falmer and their pet Chaurus through the centuries and Eras.

Still, it took a while to finally walk into a set of ruins- Well, less ruins and more a sort of abandoned farm.

I look around the valley, old buildings like a stable and a chicken coop of sorts lay abandoned and covered in overgrown foliage and grass. The majority of the stone fences have been visibly destroyed, perhaps by the animals that used to live here and escaped when their owners just disappeared.

The home is rather large, and it's like it is frozen in time. Frozen in the very last moment the family living here experienced.

The table in the living room is furnished with plates and rusted silverware, with all three chairs moved away from the table and some of the silverware resting on the floor.

As if dropped by whoever was holding them, maybe because they ceased to exist.

I drag my gloved, clawed fingers along the dusty table, gazing at the rotten and moss covered plates. At the dinner the family of four was eating before…

I shake my head and move away from the table where a family was very likely Zero Sum'ed because the rest of their Race wanted to play God.

I move to the stairs and rise to the second floor, the wood creaking beneath my steps as I approach the room where I left Hildr to rest a while back.

I expected to find her still asleep when I opened the door, but instead I find her awake and sitting on the old bed I placed her on with a small Anodyne around her just to be safe.

A part of me wanted to use a specific joke and go 'Hey, you're finally awake!' but I held myself back. "Hey." I say instead, making her tired green eye flick towards me.

She doesn't answer instantly as I approach and take a seat beside her, but she does finally speak up after several long seconds, "Did I hurt you?" She whispers, pure fear within her voice.

I offer her my hand, and she takes it with both of hers instantly, "You recognized me." I tell her, making her jolt in surprise, "It might be because you were very tired at the moment, but you still did… So you relaxed and turned back."

I could hear her teeth gritting, so I gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, "You were cool as fuck, by the way." She startles out of her worry and fear to give me a wide eyed stare, "You fucked Vulthuryol up… And melted a great deal of Blackreach too, but that's alright."

Her mouth opens and closes in shock, "I was… C-Cool?" She repeats, and I tilt my head in confusion, "Not scary? Not horrifying? Not a m-monster…?"

I sigh softly and bring her into a hug, which she happily reciprocates, "Nope, you were cool as fuck. An enormous flaming wolf beating the shit out of a giant Dragon… Gretel is gonna be so mad that she wasn't here to witness that."

Hildr laughs, her worries and fears visibly melting away as she shakes against me, her lovely laugh filling the air and also making me relax, "So yeah, you ain't a monster, Hildr. You never were, and you never will be."

Her hug grows tighter, and I discard the minor annoyance at being unable to feel it as I hold her close, giving the comfort she needs. "Are you angry?"

She sniffs and pulls back, wiping at her lone eye before sighing, "I don't know." She whispers, leaning against me as she stares at her gloved hands, "I like being one of his followers. And despite how I came to be, I take pride in basically being his strongest Champion to ever exist… I just wish I could control it."

I wrap my arm around her shoulders, "Divine power always comes at a cost, and you basically have countless generations of it shoved into you."

"Your transformation was insanely powerful, but it barely lasted even five minutes due to how much energy you were using." She told me how Werewolf transformations work the same way.

They consume energy, so they need to eat while in that form to keep their mind straight, else they go feral due to hunger.

I give her shoulder a light squeeze, "We'll find a way to help you control that form. Alright?" She nods against my shoulder, and I'd smile if I could.

We fall into a comfortable silence after that, and Blackreach is also relatively quiet, with no noises or distant sounds reaching us.

Hildr shifts around beside me before speaking up, "...You got anything else to say?" I hum and tilt my head as I pull my arm back from her shoulders.

"What do you mean?"

She keeps her head lowered, letting her long hair cover her face while her hands shyly shift on her lap, "About what I said, before we fell."

Ah.

My shoulders slump slightly, those words once more ringing through my head. "I'm not… Oblivious, you know?" I sigh out and lean back, tilting my head back so to stare at the stone ceiling above us covered in webs, "I just act like it on purpose."

"I've noticed that I grow attached easily since I came to Skyrim. Perhaps it might be because I can't feel anything, or because I was alone for quite a while before I got here, or a mix of both…"

Hildr shifts more besides me, "Then, why-"

"Hildr." I cut her off, turning so to fully face her, and moving her hair out of the way. She turns her head to face me, and I cup her cheek in my hand, "I adore you."

Her eye goes wide, and her cheeks instantly darken, "You are breathtaking, and a delight to be around. Like Aurelia, you help keep me grounded and sane when I'd have probably snapped a long time ago."

"Am I attracted to you? Hell fucking yes I am. Am I attracted to Aurelia? Abso-fuckin'-lutely. Would I court the hell out of you both if I had a body? That's a stupid fucking question."

"The problem is that I can't, and I don't know if I ever will be able to." My voice grows quieter, but Hildr leans into the hand cupping her cheek, "You can't even imagine how much I long and crave to feel your and Aurelia's warmth or hugs."

Her lone eye closes, a dazzling smile on her lips as she rests a hand over the one holding her cheek, "You would never chose between the two of us, would you?"

"Like hell I would." I answer instantly, "I would never make one happy and break the heart of the other one. I'd never forgive myself for that."

"Then don't." Hildr instantly fires back, her lone eye opening with a mischievous glint in it, "I think I can get used to sharing."

Uhh… What?

"What?"

Hildr snorts, and her beautiful smile just grows bigger, her face downright glowing, "Took you by surprise with that, huh?" I nod, and she laughs, "I've honestly been putting some thought into that for a while now. Started from the moment that I realized you are the only one for me."

I lean back in surprise, "Why are you even attracted to me?"

Hildr looks at me as if I am an idiot, "For one, you save my little sister from a gruesome fate, proceed to just casually grant me my greatest wish and desire, then I kept seeing Gretel laugh and be so happy just because of you."

"You are a headache, but you always put a smile on my face. You would gladly face everything alone if it is just to keep me, Aurelia and Gretel safe and unharmed."

"For the longest time, I had to rely on myself despite being unreliable… Then you came along, and you let me rely on you, and I know that even with all the problems and issues currently plaguing you, you'll never break."

"You make me feel safe, Leo." Leaning forward, she wraps her arms around my neck and rests her forehead against my mask, "That is all I've ever wanted, for me and for Gretel."

"So how couldn't I fall for the man that gave me all of that, and keeps giving me more?"

I once more slump my shoulders, then sigh softly, "Of course a wolf is attracted to a sack of bones."

"Oh you fuckin-!"

Hildr screeches as I cackle and she uselessly tries to strangle me while shaking me back and forth.

"Tch…" With a click of her tongue but a beautiful smile on her face, Hildr pulls back and brushes her hair behind her ear, "Whatever. I know what I want, and I'll fight for it."

I blink as she stands, placing two of her fingers over her lips and giving them a kiss, before placing them on my mask, roughly where my lips should be, and throwing a wink my way. "You're not getting rid of me."

"I wouldn't dream of it…" Gods, she's so damn sexy sometimes.

With that out of the way and a blush still present on her cheeks, Hildr stretches her back with a groan, "So, where exactly are we?"

I shake my head and stand up, "Old abandoned home I found while following after Vulthuryol." I have her follow me downstairs while filling her in on her whole fight against the Dragon, how much damage she did, and anything relevant I saw while following after it.

"Did you find where he is hiding?" Hildr asks as we step outside, and I nod.

"Not far from here, just over that hill." I point to a tall hill far behind the farm, close to the building that should be old stables. "It's like… A large city, just mostly in ruin." And it is a city I recognized very easily. Kinda.

Why? Because it has that floating glowing sphere that is used to summon Vulthuryol in the game.

"So, what's the plan-" I tilt my head when Hildr stops talking all of a sudden, and I turn to her in confusion. Her lone eye is staring at something behind me in a mixture of curiosity and disgust, "What the fuck is that thing?"

I turn around to see what attracted her attention, and pause at the sight before me.

A small mostly black creature with a fat belly, hunched over body, and thin limbs. It's roughly the height of Gretel, with two big round eyes staring in two different directions.

"What the fuck is a Riekling doing down here?" I question aloud as I stare at the ugly creature. Its face looks like it ran full speed into a wall at Mach Fuck. Hell, it reminds me of Pugs.

"That's a Riekling?!" Hildr questions, clearly just as shocked as I am. Mostly because the creature is so ugly that it doesn't resemble one that much.

"Mreh…" The Riekling staring in two different directions joins the conversation with those very intelligent words… Before shoving a whole finger up his right nostril.

Hildr gags in disgust, while I watch in interest as one of its eyes start rolling around. Clearly the dude is scratching his peanut sized brain at this moment.

"I like him." I nod cheerfully before stepping towards the small creature a few paces away from us, and patting him on the shoulder. "You are my friend now."

"Nyueh?" Truly, such eloquent and fascinating speech. Shakespeare could never.

"Your name shall be Poopdagger." I declare, ignoring the choked laughter from Hildr behind me.

"Poopdaggah!" The Riekling exclaims, throwing both of his tiny hands in the air. He still hasn't looked at me directly, goddamn…

"Yes, Poopdaggah sounds much better." I nod and pat him on the shoulder again as the small creature cheers once more, then farts.

Then starts scratching his ass.

Thankfully he is wearing a loincloth.

I turn away from the Poopdaggah as he starts sniffing his hand and turn towards a disturbed and disgusted Hildr, "I have a wonderful plan now!" I exclaim before happily walking towards the house once more, "Help me grab anything we can use to make Scrolls. We'll make a lot of them."

Hildr blinks, but swiftly follows after me, "You want to make a bomb?" Smart girl, she swiftly caught onto my plan.

"Yep!" I remove the rotten cloth from the table, leaving everything on it to fall on the floor, "I don't want to kill Vulthuryol just yet. I'd rather make sure he has no other Flesh Pit or whatever it's called."

Hildr nods in understanding as I start tearing the table cloth to make smaller ones, "So we'll make him run away again and again, until he has nowhere left to use."

I nod, "We'll still have to approach him so to throw all the Scrolls we have prepared, but it won't really be a problem."

Hildr hums, digging through a library while Poopdaggah walks into the door. Literally. I already love this dude. "Actually, Kara taught me that we can link a Scroll to a password."

I freeze at that, and Hildr keeps going, "She says that it works similar to Chants, something about our words being strangely connected to Magic, and we can connect one or more words to a Scroll while placing the Original Rune…" Hildr stops.

Slowly, she looks towards me.

I look at her.

Then our eyes move towards Poopdaggah. He stares at us, simultaneously. "Poopdaggah!" He bellows out like a fierce warrior, while drooling everywhere.

Me and Hildr look at each other once more, and she smiles.

Oh yeah, I love this girl.

...By the way, how many Souls have I gathered so far? I presume quite a bit, since I killed all the Falmers from the hole in Winterhold all the way down here.

[Souls; 11478!]

…

WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FUCK-

                                                                                       ~~XXX~~

Vulthuryol felt it.

He felt the change in the air. The danger drawing closer. Like a mighty beast having placed its gaze upon him.

Him, a mighty Dragon… Was now regarded as a prey.

His remaining Dragon heads turn to regard his surroundings. The broken city, lit up by the sphere hanging in the air high above him.

And below him lay a large square filled with mangled flesh, shattered bones, and pools of blood.

It was actually far bigger, as this used to be a large pit he had his puppets dig out throughout the years, then had them breed each other and throw the crippled or useless ones down there.

Their population kept swelling, they kept breeding, they kept tossing more and more into the pit. Then the Chaurus were added to the mix and became his thralls too.

His army swelled in massive numbers. A very weak and useless army that never trained and mostly just kept breeding for more puppets, but an army nonetheless.

He had several, in fact… Or used to, at least. His planned invasion for the surface was thwarted due to the presence of that damnable Deinmaar.

Now, the Falmers he had under him were perhaps in the hundred. He had thousands of them, mainly because he butchered many more to prepare a few more Flesh Pits just to be safe.

The Chaurus… It was a waste to use them for battle just yet. If only he had Hevnoraak, he could create Falmer Chaurus Hybrids. Make an army of them in just a few decades or centuries.

Then they'd use it to sweep the surface.

Alas, he could at most use Fleshcrafting to repair his grievous wounds and organs, or modify his body with simple changes. But far more complicated modifications? No, that was Hevnoraak's specialty.

The blood and flesh of the pit churned as he kept repairing the damage to his body. Those fools let him escape, and while the loss of five of his heads was a lot, the damage to his body was negligible.

He could remake his whole body seven times with this pit alone, after all!

Once more, a chill goes down his spine.

Then winds carry a ferocious cry, "Poopdaggah!" Vulthuryol bares his jaws with his remaining heads, and turns in the direction of that mighty cry.

And there, standing upon the remaining arch that leads to the square of flesh and blood… Stood a small, overweight Riekling wearing a loincloth flapping in the wind, and revealing the horrors beneath.

The Riekling refused to even stare at him, both eyes looking to his left and right, as if mocking him! As if saying he wasn't even worth entering his gaze!

The gaze of a pathetic worm-like creature!

The fearsome Riekling grabs the large bundle of cloth resting beside him and shrugs his powerful shoulders.

Vulthuryol roars and stomps forward.

The Riekling charges and jumps, swinging the bundle of cloth through the air.

Four Dragon heads open, sharp jaws reaching forward to tear apart the little pest that still refused to even lay his gaze upon his beautiful form!

And the fearless Riekling, with eyes staring in two different directions, long tongue flapping through the air and spraying drool everywhere, speaks the words that have been granted upon him by Him!

"MI BOMBOCLAT-!"

The large bundle of cloth lights up.

Vulthuryol swiftly realizes that he had fucked up.

The magical equivalent of a Nuclear Bomb goes off right in his face.

And far in the distance, standing atop a tall hill, Leonidas and Hildr watch as the immense explosion of flames and the devastating shock-wave effectively evaporate the ruins of the city near-instantly.

And Leonidas, distraught, falls to his knees and throws punches at the ground, "Poopdaggah! No!" He cries out in pure sorrow while Hildr smiles in satisfaction- In sadness yet with pride at the accomplishment of that mighty, handsome Riekling.

Then something smashes into the farm house behind them, causing it to collapse.

They turn, and watch as a small little hand rises out from the rubble… And gives a thumbs-up.

"Poopdaggah…"

Even the magical equivalent of a Nuke taken to the face couldn't put a fearsome fighter like Poopdaggah down.

"How the fuck did he survive that!?"

Hildr was left devastated- Elated that Poopdaggah survived, of course.

While Leonidas nodded in understanding.

"Every Dungeons and Dragons party has their Goblin companion. Guess we found ours!"

And so, Poopdaggah joins the team that shall save the world.

A.N. I've been wanting to write Poopdaggah for a while now.

As Leo said, all DnD parties have a funny Goblin companion that dies tragically. Or in hilarious ways.

Also yes, Bomboclat makes a comeback. Had to use it twice, especially since it kinda fits Poopdaggah, if y'all know the meaning of the word.

Also, sorry for the wait on the update! The 1st was my birthday, and somebody had to die during it cuz I can't enjoy shit, but I've struggled with writing sum for a while now.

Either way, this month I'ma try and update I, Draugr a fuckton, so look forward to it!

Thank you for your patience!

Lots of love!

Toodles!

I, Draugr Chapter 40

"Well, well, well… Look whose fat ass graces my presence once more!" Kara drawl out, nose pointed towards the Heavens as she sniffs and glares down at Deinmaar.

"Had I known you just needed a beating to get your ass up, then I woulda sent Lah to do that instantly!"

"I would have died." The Atmoran points out swiftly, staring up at the flying minute woman with a flat stare.

Kara sniffs, "Yeah, ya would have. That stupid Hubby of mine can't hold back for shit." A problem only someone absurdly overpowered would have, I presume.

"Still, it's nice to see you out and about, big guy." Floating down, Kara smiles warmly as she pats Deinmaar's shoulders, "Lah had only good things to say about you, after all."

Deinmaar nods lightly, "I have my good brother here to thank for that." He states while reaching over to pat my own shoulder, making my whole body shake.

Kara snorts, "Boys. Becoming brothers after beating the shit outta each other is so hilarious…"

"It is the manly way to do things!" I exclaim, and Deinmaar nods sagely at my wise words.

"Uhm…" Then we both turn to stare at Hildr, who is staring at us with a weird look in her eye, "With who are you guys talking to?"

I slump, "Oh yeah, I forgot you can't see her."

Kara floats forward, "I'll take care of that!" She circles around Hildr, raises one hand, then bonks her on the head. "Whatam!" Hard.

Hildr flinches and buckles forward with a quiet curse, her right hand coming up to cradle the top of her head, "Okay, what the fuck-" She pauses when her eyes catches sight of Kara. Floating upside down in front of her. "Uh… Hi?"

Kara cups her chin and hums loudly, then nods after a few seconds, "Leo, ya got fine tastes in women." Hildr squeaks, her face going as red as her hair.

I nod, "Tell me something I don't know."

"I wouldn't want to insult ya, though…"

"He'll likely take it as a compliment." Deinmaar muses softly from beside me, making me gasp.

"You already know me so well!" My big friend just sighs deeply out of pure amusement.

Recovering from the stray shot Kara threw her way, Hildr coughs into her fist and straightens herself, "So, who is she…?"

I turn away from Deinmaar and wave a hand towards Kara, who is now cart-wheeling through the air for some damn reason, "This is Kara, second Archmage of the College of Winterhold, and daughter of Shalidor."

Hildr blinks, "What the fuck." Yeah, that is the reaction I expected. "Is she some kinda ghost, or…?"

Floating back down, Kara straightens her robes with a hum, "I am an Astral Projection, to be exact. Part Soul, part Magicka, manifested out of my physical body."

Pausing, I blink and turn towards the minute woman, "Wait, how did you make Hildr see you?"

Kara snorts at my question, "There is something called a Magicka Sense. Everyone has it, as it helps people see Magicka form Spells and stuff, but it isn't fully… active – for a lack of a better word – for everyone."

"For example, some folks without a fully active Magicka Sense are kinda immune to Illusion Magic that plays with the sense of sight. Hildr here was kinda one such case." Kara nods towards the quietly listening redhead, "Her Magicka Sense had put everything towards 'feeling' instead of 'seeing', probably due to her…" Kara doesn't finish her words, but she does wiggle one finger towards her eyes.

"Huh…" Hildr muses, reaching up to rub at her new scale-like blindfold, "I don't feel different, though."

"That is normal, don't worry." Kara reassures with a light smile, "As I said, you 'feel' instead of 'see'. You'll now be able to see and easily make out physical illusions."

Probably due to the Magicka that makes their form, I presume. A living being probably 'feels' different than a husk made of Magicka.

"Anyway, ya wanted to see me, skele-boy?" I snort at my nickname, but nod nonetheless.

"Well, I am also glad to see you back awake." I'd rather nothing happens to her. Kinda took a liking to her silly ass. "But yeah. I mainly wanted to know more about your battle with Vulthuryol."

Kara hums softly and floats to the edge of the roof of the College, where she takes a seat on one of the brick railings, "It wasn't much of a battle. Vulthuryol is like a cockroach, and he gains power by absorbing other living being into his body."

I perk up at that, "Absorbing?"

"Fleshcrafting." Kara corrects, a nasty frown on her face, "Magicka is in our very Blood and Soul. He devours both, assimilates them within him. He uses Magicka to imitate Shouts, to breathe fire. Because he can't."

I cross my arms with a low hum, "How can he not Shout? Is he like… A runt, or something like that?"

Kara shakes her head with a sigh, "Lah doesn't know. Vulthuryol is the only Dragon that is unable to even use the Dragon Tongue."

Deinmaar sighs, "What a sad existence." He then shakes his head and turns to Kara, "Why does he hate Lah so much?"

Kara nibbles on her lower lip for a few short seconds before sighing deeply, "Vulthuryol was Lah's first and only disciple. My Hubby tried to teach Lah the Dragon Tongue, but failed. He tried to teach him Magicka and Spells… But failed at that too."

"Vulthuryol is a being that somehow couldn't learn anything other than that disgusting side of Necromancy."

I lean back with a hum, "And he grew to be jealous of Lah." Kara nods, and I understand. Lah is a genius, possibly the greatest mind alive.

A Dragon that has mastered Magicka and the Dragon Tongue, and has created a way to weave them both together.

Meanwhile Vulthuryol is a Dragon that couldn't learn anything, even when taught by Lah.

"Vulthuryol learned about Fleshcrafting… About the horrid things it can do, but he only saw the power he could gain…" Kara's gaze grows distant and sad, "And he now wants Lah's body, so to have Lah's power for himself."

"And got his ass smashed straight down to Blackreach just for trying." I point out, earning a snort from Kara.

"I get overprotective." She huffs a stray lock of curly hair out of her face, "Plus, I believed that vaporizing his whole body in one go would kill him, but nope."

Deinmaar hums and cups his armored chin in thought, "You said he weaponized his Immortality, right?"

Kara nods with a frown, "Yeah. Me and Lah obliterated his whole body several times, but he keeps coming back. Usually after a few years, one time after a whole decade. Sometimes stronger, sometimes weaker."

Deinmaar hums and paces a few times, earning my attention, "You know how he is doing that?" Deinmaar nods after a few seconds of consideration.

"A phylactery." The giant Atmoran points out, "But not just one. Several. Living phylacteries."

Kara blinks in confusion, then her eyes swiftly widen in horror, "You think he is Fleshcrafting pieces of his body on other beings before going to battle so that his Soul goes back to them after his body is obliterated?"

The former Dragon Priest nods heavily, "It is possible. A Dragon's Soul is attached to their flesh body. Leave behind a portion of it, obliterate the rest, and the Soul instantly snaps back to that discarded piece of flesh. Even a bone could work."

Hildr speaks up at that, "And he has all the flesh and parts he could ever need if he that deep." Her words draw our attention, and she keeps going, "The Chaurus. They breed like insects, hundreds of eggs in one batch, and the Falmer are known to grow them as pets."

Deinmaar takes in a breath. It isn't sharp, but it is heavy. His hands clench slightly into creaking fists, "And he has been down there since the First Era."

Yeah, I've made up my mind, "We need to vaporize whatever is down there." Deinmaar and Kara nod without hesitation. "It is likely a hive. Maybe not, in case he did not want his pets and… sources of flesh to escape his control."

"We are still look at what could be tens of thousands of Falmer and Chaurus." Kara points out. Her words are heavy, not because of the opposition, but because of the amount of power we will have to unleash to wipe it all clean.

Me and Deinmaar can easily do so, but there is a risk of bringing a portion of Skyrim down if we fuck up.

Then Deinmaar asks something that made me want to kill someone, "What about his Dragon Priest?"

Kara shakes her head, and I take in a calming breath, "What's his name?"

Deinmaar turns to look at me. The eyes beneath his helm are heavy, pure disdain within them. "Hevnoraak."

"Fuck." Of course it is him. "He is sealed. Dunno for how long it'll last though."

Kara frowns and snaps a sharp gaze towards me, "Where?"

I couldn't help it. I glance towards Hildr. Her face instantly blanches, "No…"

"Between Falkreath and Markarth. Closer to Markarth than Falkreath, up in the mountains." Hildr looks ready to explode and curse. Not at me, but in general.

But she is also worried. Her granny still lives there, and Hildr misses her a lot. She still feels guilty that they basically left her behind so that they could leave.

I know that some nights, Hildr asks Hircine if what she did is right. But one cannot ask for comfort from a God, especially one that views things like an animal does.

"When the elders are too old to keep going, they prefer hanging back and watching the pack leave safely." Those were his words. Words that I heard because I couldn't sleep, and because Hildr was seeking comfort lest she cry herself to sleep once more.

Never thought a God could feel so… Human.

I shake away those thoughts as a brazen idea enters my head, so I draw Kara's attention with my hand. Her gaze subtly shifts towards me, then towards Hildr. She understands without any further prompts for me.

"Well, anyway…" Sighing, the minute curly haired woman jumps off the railing and approaches Hildr with a smile, "Skele-boy had a lot to say about you, so lets go down and see what I can teach ya, yeah?"

Hildr is instantly hooked, and I am honestly eager to see what she can learn under the guidance of possibly one of the greatest Magicians that have lived.

I watch them leave quietly before I speak up, "I have a plan."

Deinmaar crosses his arms, "And you have my sword." This guy is a bro.

I chuckle softly, "It's a stupid plan."

"So?" Deinmaar shrugs with a chuckle of his own, "As long as your life isn't on the line, I shall follow you."

I shake my head before throwing a look towards the frozen mountain. "Divide and conquer." I state after a few seconds, "The immense hole that Kara punched straight to Blackreach is mostly gone, probably due to earthquakes and whatnot."

The earth shifted due to the shifting plates, so the hole is mostly patched up, but is still there, partially. A long fall all the way down to Blackreach.

All the way down to Vulthuryol's lair and domain.

"You plan on taking the fight straight to Vulthuryol's home?" Deinmaar probes, and I nod.

"You hold the line here, keep everyone safe. I fall down and cut their reinforcements at the source."

And if things get back, I'll surely have absorbed enough Souls to Evolve. Hell, maybe I'll even be able to Evolve more than once, depending on how many damn Falmers there are.

Deinmaar hums softly, "The lady won't like it." He speaks of Hildr, and I chuckle softly.

"Hence why I didn't want her to hear such a plan." I'd rather not have her worry too much. She has already started keeping a very close eye on me since I've come back after our fight with Alduin.

"I have trust in your strength, brother." Deinmaar nods after a few quiet moments fly by, "I can handle everything here until you come back."

I raise a fist and offer it to him, and receive a swift fist bump a second later, "Hence why I can go ahead with that crazy plan."

It is the best way, unfortunately. We cannot risk battling Vulthuryol here.

For one, because it'll put a lot of people in danger. For two, because it might make Lah furious if he feels Vulthuryol try shit, forcing the Dragon to come back before we can free Kara.

"I do have a request, if you will." I perk up with a hum, then wave for Deinmaar to keep going, "Once we are done with Vulthuryol, I would like to hunt down Hevnoraak. He is a disgusting criminal that has eluded me for far too long."

I laugh at that, "I won't mind helping you out with that." Then I perk up, "Oh right, I do know of some other Dragon Priests. I want to run their names by you and check how strong they are."

That makes the giant Atmoran perk up, "Few didn't show up during my summons back then. Hevnoraak because he was a criminal and he would never stand fearlessly before me."

I nod in understanding at that, "Well, as you already know, I killed Krosis some months back. Rahgot also got killed by the Dragonborn some time ago, and Hildr currently holds his Mask."

Deinmaar hums and cups his chin once more, "Rahgot… I remember that he was a general of the armies back then. A physical fighter like me."

Matches with what Aurelia said about their battle in her letter, which was purely a contest of might.

"Any Dragon Priest off the top of your head that are stronger than you and we should be wary off?"

Deinmaar nods without hesitation. "Master Morokei, for one." Right, the fucker in Labyrinthian wielding the bullshit Staff of Magnus. "Then Lord Otar, and Nahkriin."

I nod, "I know where each of them are, though…" I fish into my robes, having always kept that map at my side, mainly to see if I would run into any clues about them. "Got any idea on who these two might be?"

I take out the map and show it to Deinmaar, who leans forward with an interested hum as I tap the two spots on the map. The one with a Dragon Priest seemingly being in Saarthal, and the other one being in Arcwind Point.

In the game, a Dragon Priest would spawn there if the player was high enough level, else it would be a leveled Draugr. But if the Dragon Priest spawned, they wouldn't have a Mask nor a name.

"That's…" Deinmaar whispers, large fingers tracing over the spot in Arcwind Point in disbelief, "That might be Konahriik?"

We share a stunned look at that, "Wha- How?"

"That is the place where her hometown used to be."

I lean back with a light breath and consider our option. "This sounds too good to be true." Deinmaar nods in agreement, "We'll go to check that area out as soon as we can, but let us not keep our hopes up."

Konahriik, if she is on our side, then will be an immense boost to our strength.

But why would she just rest in Arcwind Point instead of… I don't know, do something?

She battled Alduin when the war started, kept him from joining the fray before she seemingly disappeared and Alduin then ended up getting thrown into Time Jail.

I shake my head and store away the map once more. Deinmaar has no clues about the Dragon Priest that might lay in Saarthal, but… There is a Dragon Priest that might be there, that actually shouldn't.

Ahzidal. The great Nord Enchanter that swore an oath of vengeance against the Snow Elves after they sacked and slaughtered the whole of Saarthal, and went on to assist Ysgramor and the one-hundred Companions in helping them genocide the Snow Elves.

But why would he be there?

I shake away those what-if's and just focus on the present. That'll be an issue for the future, and I'll think about it when it comes.

"You take care of an issue and two more pop up to annoy you right after." I sigh, wanting nothing more than to jump off the roof of the College and smash my skull into the frigid waters below.

Not that I'll feel any of that.

"Hevnoraak isn't powerful." Deinmaar points out lightly, "Even Rahgot would be a far tougher opponent. Hevnoraak merely is a pest that has survived due to everything he has stolen from others."

I perk up at that, "What did he steal?"

"Powerful artifacts." Deinmaar scoffs with a shake of his head, "His Mask basically conjures a powerful, near unbreakable Ward around him. He stole it after assassinating the recruit that earned that Mask, then fleeing and hiding like a rat."

Huh…

"So he's a fraud. Got it."

Deinmaar nearly keeled over from how hard he wheezed at my words.

                                                                       ~~XXX~~

"How many people did I lose?" Balgruuf's voice was heavy. Angry. Tired.

But mostly angry.

His grand palace, untouched for generations, had been torn open. Wounded. And he was but a helpless fool, unable to stop it.

It felt like a stain upon his legacy. An insult upon his Ancestors, upon all the grand individuals that stood within this palace and sat upon the throne below the Dragon Skull.

And it wasn't just the wound upon Dragonsreach that angered him so. The destruction of his city fueled that anger and turned into fury.

Thrice was his city attacked so far. Thrice did he lose fearless warriors and innocents in order to protect it.

How many more will he have to lose?

"I doubt we will reach the hundreds, my lord." Farengar answers. His Court Mage was tired, barely standing on his feet… But there was a fire within his eyes. A touch of madness, but not the bad kind.

It was that madness that led to inspiration.

"Those scrolls Leonidas sent us… They pretty much made our people nigh-immortal, my Lord." Farengar chuckles. It was a weak sound, but one filled with delight. "Some of our soldiers barely even reached some of the Dragons before the people tore them apart."

Balgruuf allows himself a cold laugh filled with satisfaction. He couldn't be more proud to have such people within his city.

"I walked past a Dragon stuffed full of pitchforks, so I can believe that." Irileth muses, equally tired but still holding her composure as she inspected the interior of Dragonsreach.

Workers, soldiers, civilians and other Jarls moved around, moving the bodies of the fallen and helping with the rubble.

"The air defenses worked wonderfully. Though 'tis fair to point out that it all ended so fast and swiftly due to the Dragonborn's timely arrival." Balgruuf nods at Irileth's words. He would never be able to repay that woman's efforts.

Though he doubted she'd even accept anything he'd have to offer. Aurelia had a heart of gold, after all.

"Not just her." Farengar hums, nodding towards the destroyed front of Dragonsreach, and what lays far down before Dragonsreach.

A Dragon. A living one. And one that fought, bled and killed his brethren for them.

Four Dragons. That was how many Dragons Julspaan tore through. A massive wall of scale and righteous fury, withstanding the Shouts of his brethren and tearing through them with pure physical might alone.

Shaking away those thoughts, Balgruuf stands as he inspects the hall once more.

The Jarl started gathering once more, and Balgruuf allowed himself to relax at the sight of the Emperor being in good health.

Though not everyone came out of the battle unscathed. Ulfric for example… His whole left arm was gone. Balgruuf heard Ulfric had sacrificed it to a Dragon so that he could then stab his sword through the beast's skull.

If the loss of a limb bothered the man, he didn't show it on his face. Though a deep, pensive look was visible within his eyes.

The man was distracted. Deep within his thoughts. Balgruuf hoped they were rational thoughts.

"It is good to see you unharmed, Emperor." Balgruuf states over the quiet that fell over Dragonsreach, and the Emperor chuckles lightly.

"All thanks to your people, I must say." The Emperor praises, a baffled look on his face, "I failed to reach one living Dragon. On horseback. I always forget how terrifying Nords can be."

A faint laugh echoes throughout the hall, lightening the mood a great deal, "My people had a lot of anger to release on those beasts after they attacked us so many times already."

The Emperor snorts, "I saw some nasty wounds on some of those corpses, so I can believe that…" Farengar turns away and Irileth gives the man a disturbed look. Balgruuf hopes Farengar did not pull a Leonidas.

Already his soldiers had turned the asshole destroying method from that man into the 'Leonidas Method', which they now basically worshiped as THE Dragon Slaying way.

The fact that it was so damn effective made it even worse.

Rolling his shoulders, the Emperor sighs deeply as he steps forward, "Now… Skyrim has lost two Jarls so far." The man announces, gaze heavy as he regards the two empty seats, "The Moot can be called another time if the remaining Jarls decide so."

Stepping forward, Balgruuf narrows his eyes in thought for a short second before speaking up, "Ulfric." The Stormcloak leader perks up at being called, "Do you know what happened to Siddgeir?"

It wasn't an accusation, but a genuine question, and Ulfric frowned in thought for a short few seconds, "He is probably still suffering in the bathroom."

… Balgruuf sniffs. Well, that is one way to incapacitate a Jarl without violence, but also making them back for the sweet release of death.

"I wouldn't wish such a form of torture even on my worst enemy, Ulfric…" The Jarl of Markarth couldn't help but whisper, pure horror filling his voice.

Ulfric shrugs.

"I would." Elisif whispers from her chair, and Ulfric shudders and averts his gaze.

Shaking aside his amusement, Balgruuf speaks up once more, "I vote to keep going with the Moot." He declares, bringing focus and attention back to the mostly destroyed table.

For a moment, Balgruuf thought that Elisif would swiftly support his decision. But instead the widow remained quiet, her gaze downcast and distant.

The other Jarls shared glances, some a few whispered words, but in the end they all agreed.

The Emperor nods and squares his shoulders once more. Gone was his imposing presence, but back was his seriousness. "Then… Allow me to say something, before the Moot goes back to the matter we were discussing."

Ulfric doesn't flinch. He doesn't even blink. He simply sits there, head held high, but not in arrogance or pride. But in acceptance.

"I love Skyrim." The aged Emperor states heavily, voice warm and kind, "And I love the people that bless this land."

"When the capital of the Empire fell all those years ago and I was forced to flee like a coward… It was Skyrim that took me in."

"It was Skyrim that cradled me back to full health."

"And it was the burning flames of determination of the people of Skyrim that pushed me back to reclaim the city from those bastards."

The Emperor's gaze falls and slowly moves around, meeting the eyes of each Jarl. Even Ulfric.

"When deep inside I was close to giving up and despairing… Skyrim did not." His fists clench at his sides, "The people of Skyrim laughed, patted me on the back, and assured me that the Empire would not fall."

"And it did not."

Breathing in, the Emperor finally retracts his intense gaze by closing his eyes, "You've lost much, due to the war. And have lost even more recently… As the Emperor, I can give you orders… But I won't."

"I will only ask. Please, do not tear each other apart."

Ulfric breathes in, then breathes out. He closes his eyes and lowers his head.

"Have you anything to say, Ulfric Stormcloak?" The Emperor asks, finally giving the man – the reason – behind the Moot the spotlight.

For a moment, Ulfric opens his mouth, then closes it as he lifts his head and opens his eyes, "I won't say that I was wrong." The Jarl of Windhelm states softly, and despite his words no one jumps in to berate him. Or to shout at him. They just wait and listen.

"But I won't say that I was right either." Ulfric states soon after, loud and clear enough for everyone to hear.

Balgruuf blinks and leans back in surprise, and the Emperor nods, seemingly satisfied.

Ulfric keeps going, "I don't…" He starts, but stops himself, gaze flicking left and right, as if searching for the exact words to use, "I now don't really understand what exactly I was trying to achieve."

"Freedom of Skyrim? Skyrim has always been free. Always been left alone."

"What exactly was I trying to do beside having brothers and sisters kill each other?" Ulfric chuckles. It was a mocking sound, full of scorn and hate. Towards himself.

The man shakes his head and leans back. He was lost, confused. He didn't understand why, or what caused it, or what happened.

Was it the Emperor standing against him? Was it the anger within the Emperor's eyes?

Was it the hate within the eyes of his fellow Jarls?

Ulfric didn't know.

But then his mind goes back to the previous battle. Back to several moments he had seen during the long fight.

An Imperial Soldier dragging a wounded Stormcloak away from the rubble.

A Stormcloak pushing an Imperial away from the flames of a Dragon.

An Imperial and Stormcloak using their shields to protect the civilians from the glacial breath of the Dragon they were battling.

Imperial and Stormcloak soldiers fighting side by side. For the same cause. For the same people.

Yesterday, they would have stabbed each other on sight.

Today, they stood side by side and faced a mighty beast of legends.

What about tomorrow, then?

Ulfric Stormcloak… Starts to understand.

He felt abandoned. Forgotten. He had joined the war and broken an oath for the Empire.

He was captured. Tortured. Mocked. Humiliated. Interrogated. He said nothing, he did not break. He wouldn't. Couldn't.

The Empire never found him. The Empire never searched for him.

Ulfric believed that the Empire had abandoned him. Abandoned Skyrim.

Ulfric Stormcloak was a fool.

A fool that was benefiting the enemy and no one else.

"I will accept any punishment that the Emperor and my fellow Jarls want."

Ulfric accepts his fate. He accepts his wrongdoings. He had a lot to think about. A lot to meditate on.

His mind wasn't calm any longer, and he hated it.

The Emperor nods, and turns towards the Jarls. The Jarl share glances… Then turn towards Elisif.

The woman perks up, her distant gaze focusing back as she blinks, then stares at Ulfric. The man did not hold her gaze, and appeared lost in thought.

Elisif did not demand him to look at her.

Her eyes narrowed and reddened. Her lips parted, quivered, then closed before her teeth bit down upon them harshly.

"The punishment I have in mind…" The woman starts, voice heavy, hoarse, "It is one that only benefits me. That only satisfies me."

"But as a Jarl, I must think of the people, too."

Elisif breathes in and leans back, then breathes out, "I will not ask for his head. Or for his life." Ulfric lifts his head in stunned silence, his eyes wide as he stared at the widow of his own making, "But…"

Then Elisif's gaze sharpens and grows heavy. "I won't forgive you. I never will. Maybe in the future I will demand for your death, when Skyrim is save once more… But until then, you will live."

"You will live, and fight, and protect Skyrim."

Elisif breathes out, then steels her gaze, "And you will go apologize to the High Elders. That is the punishment I give you."

Ulfric stills, eyes wide and nearly horrified.

"Journey back to High Hrothgar, and let the Greybeards judge you."

Before the very eyes of the Emperor and the other Jarls, what Ulfric does is shocking…

He whimpers.

Even the Emperor hisses at the punishment Elisif dished out upon the man that she hated the most.

Yet, despite it all… Balgruuf is glad.

He is glad the Moot did not turn into a battle between brothers and sisters. Into a play to try and kill the other Jarls.

Into a final back-stab that would put Ulfric down like an animal, and not a warrior.

Deep down, despite his inner ire at the Civil War and everything that happened due to it… Balgruuf is glad.

He allows his shoulders to relax, and lets out a deep breath. His throat was parched, his body ached, and he wanted nothing more than to hug his children and lay in his bed.

But he still had things to do.

"My Jarl." A runner walked past the ruined front of Dragonsreach and up the long stairs that led to the main hall, bowing before the Emperor and the other Jarls, "The Dragon below wishes to speak with you all."

Julspaan, Balgruuf realized. Despite that titanic Dragon still being in his city, Balgruuf wasn't worried.

That beast fought and bled for them. For all he cared, that Dragon was now a brother in arms.

Balgruuf stands first, and the other Jarls follow suit, Ulfric included. The Emperor leads the way, his guards at his side and falling into steps instantly.

Nobody talks on the way down, their eyes soon falling upon the titanic Dragon that had treated his own brethren like sponges to be beaten.

His body still lay littered with wounds, but the dark beast stood tall, wings curled at his sides and head held high.

Glowing golden eyes slowly flicked down to take in their arrival once they slowly came to a stop, and his massive head inclines down soon after, "I thank you for answering my call so quickly."

The Emperor laughs lightly. It was a powerful sound, one that made the other Jarls relax, "You bled for these people and fought your own kind for us. That is the least we could do."

A rumbling sound comes from the titanic beast. A chuckle. One so powerful it made the very air shake. Even the earth beneath their feet seemed to resonate with it. "I refuse to stand by and let these atrocities go by. Not any longer."

The Dragon rises, standing tall once more, "I meditated upon it. Upon my role in this incoming War. I was a bystander in the previous War, but now…" The Dragon breathes in.

Then he exhales. The earth rumbles.

Balgruuf swore that the decayed tree in the middle of the square suddenly sprouted several leaves.

"Now I won't, and the Sky has given me a role." Golden eyes fall upon the Jarls once more, "Pick one-hundred man and women from each of your cities and send them to High Hrothgar."

"They shall be taught the Voice, like in the past."

Goosebumps rise on the skin and arms of each present Jarl.

They realized what this meant.

The Thu'Um had been taught to the Races of Men to combat the Dragons in the Merethic Era.

Then, slowly, the power of the Tongue had slowly disappeared to just a scant few wielders, few among them being fighters.

This Era likely had the least amount of Tongues in existence. And it was the very Era in which the World-Eater came back to complete his task.

"Why now?" Ulfric is the first to speak time, "I've been taught the Voice, and it takes a long time to learn. Do those we chose have enough time to learn?"

The Dragon nods, "That man managed to buy us plenty of time. A whole year, maybe more, at most."

The Emperor perks up, "That man?" He parrots.

"A man the lord of this city knows well, I am sure." Balgruuf perks up, then he freezes. His eyes go wide soon after.

It couldn't be… "Leonidas?"

The Dragon chuckles and nods, "Yes, that man." Julspaan's head rises to gaze at the sky, "I felt it, even from here. His battle with Alduin."

"He made the World-Eater cower, and that will grant us precious time."

Balgruuf felt faint. That man- The wandering Archmage that tags along the Dragonborn…

Just what kind of monster was he to make the World-Eater cower?

"Then we must not waste it." Balgruuf declares as he shakes his head to recover enough to speak properly and stand on his two feet without trembling. "Do the people we chose have certain qualities?"

Julspaan shakes his head, "Young or old, man or woman, fighter or not. As long as they can speak and listen, then they are most welcome."

Elisif is the next to speak, "And won't they misuse this gift that will be taught to them?" Her gaze flicks towards Ulfric, mostly to point out his broken oath.

"They shall take a powerful Oath, one that is more than just words. The Sky shall preside over the ceremony."

A Divine… That meant that breaking the Oath would have severe consequences.

"I thank you for the aid you are willing to give the people of this land." The Emperor speaks, voice warm and thankful.

Julspaan inclines his head, "It is the right thing to do… I merely wish more of my brethren see what I do." With that, the Dragon rises.

Then, with the nimbleness of a cat, the massive beast leaps high into the air and flaps his enormous wings once.

"I shall eagerly wait for the arrival of your people."

Those were the parting words of the gargantuan Dragon before his form turns and begins flying back towards High Hrothgar, leaving the Jarls and the Emperor quiet.

For they all knew what was coming.

This quiet was different. It wasn't the quiet before the storm.

But the quiet before the Apocalypse.

And they had to prepare, lest all that is left of Skyrim will be ashes and brimstone.

And the countless corpses of Dragons that had to die to bring it down.

                                                                          ~~XXX~~

The wall of ice and stone crumbles from one good and light blow from Deinmaar, and all that greets us beyond is darkness and absolutely nothing.

Yet, we walk in without fear or care, leading a much bigger small army of mages and soldiers with murder in their eyes.

"They are gone." Deinmaar muses, "Like you said."

I nod, "Vulthuryol probably called them back when he felt us kick Alduin's shit in." A chuckle rumbles out of my giant friend, who stomps forward to further inspect the massive expanse of darkness before us.

A simple hand gesture from him had the aged Tolfdir step forward and swiftly launch a miniature star high into the air.

It exploded in a blinding flash, then remained fixed in place, bringing light to the vacant interior of the frozen mountain.

The stone beneath our feet is a dull gray, and far ahead of us, roughly more than a hundred meters – maybe close to two-hundred – lay an immense hole.

No signs of Falmers, or of their equipment, or even of their usual architecture and buildings made out of Chaurus materials.

The hole is wide, big enough to swallow Alduin whole and have a bit of space left over. It is a straight hole down too- No stairs, no nothing. Just a pit that goes down for hundreds of meters.

"I don't like this quiet…" Faralda muses, and Deinmaar nods.

"Good. Let us use this time to prepare our defenses." Tolfdir nods and steps forward, taking the lead before crouching down and placing his hands on the ground below us.

He perks up soon after with a "Hm?" Sound that attracts Faralda's attention.

"Something wrong?"

The Alteration Master furrows his brows and tests the stone beneath his hands, then lightly picks a stray pebble up and… Squishes it into powder. "It is very, very brittle…"

I hum at that. Kara had basically atomized this whole area back in the day – massive fucking overkill from the damn woman, by the way – and had said that she fixed it to the best of her abilities… With Alteration Magic.

Alteration Magic is known for having everything it builds turn brittle after the Magicka left within the construct runs dry.

The mountain, as Kara said, was something that she 'picked up and placed there', not something she made, especially since she couldn't have made the many ores Winterhold mined out of it.

A check with Mind's Eyes tells me that yes, the consistency of the stone beneath our feet is the same even hundreds of feet down.

I didn't think she fixed the damage so deep… I guess if I try hard enough, I can punch a hole down to Blackreach myself with ease.

The temptation is strong.

"I will freeze over the fortress you make, Master Tolfdir." The elderly mage nods at my reassurance, and he proceeds to get to work, raising massive armored walls of stone with laughable ease and swiftly having them encircle the entrance behind us.

Stairs rose soon after, allowing the mages and archers to swiftly take their positions, and three gates soon appeared over the walls under Deinmaar's direction.

It was best to divide the area into three battlefields, according to Deinmaar.

One side will be handled by Deinmaar, the mages and the soldiers. Another will be handled by Marius and my army of Conjured Werewolves, together with Phinis bringing back any dead left mostly intact.

The last side is for me and Hildr. Mostly cause I want to spend some time alone with the woman.

Kinda bad to be left alone in a warzone that will soon be filled with corpses, but… Hildr seems to be looking forward to it?

I freeze the walls and ground all around us once Tolfdir gives me the clear, then I step back to do my own thing.

I focus on that familiar necklace around my neck and let my Magicka flow into it. I instantly feel the connection go through, and watch as Reality twists and a portal forms right beside me.

Marius enormous form stomps through, steam erupting out of his nostrils as he rolls his shoulders and takes a look around, enormous war-ax resting lazily on his right shoulder.

His eyes take in the surroundings, and swiftly realize what is going on as a vicious grin spreads across his jaws, "Sir Leonidas, it is good to see you once more!"

I chuckle at the eager and happy greeting from the towering Minotaur, "Can't help but think of you when a slaughter is about to happen."

It is a good thing that the Hagraven that stays at the College isn't hanging around right now and isn't willing to assist, else Marius would have instantly turned her to pulp within seconds.

"I've grown to love such massive battles!" Marius chuckles, furred arms flexing and swelling with bulging muscles, "What's the plan?"

I quickly look around, ignoring the stares Marius is attracting so that I can quickly find Deinmaar. He was standing by one of the gates and directing some soldiers when he catches me waving and excuses himself to come on over.

"Ah, the slumbering beast I felt that day." Marius muses, a glint of respect within his eyes as he stares at the towering form of the Atmoran approaching us. "You truly are capable of becoming friends with anyone, Sir Leonidas."

I guess I can, strangely enough. Though I wouldn't really say I am friends with Hircine? Or perhaps we bonded due to our mutual love and adoration for Gretel.

Gods, I miss that little gremlin so damn much. I'm gonna give her the biggest hug I can as soon as I see her again.

I shake away those thoughts and swiftly focus back on the present to do the introduction, "Marius, this is Deinmaar. Deinmaar, this is one of the Hunters of Hircine. Very cool dude."

Marius snorts while Deinmaar chuckles lightly, "If my brother vouches for you, then I know I can only expect good things." The giant Atmoran nods and offers his hand, and Marius clasps it in a fierce grip with a grin.

"Give me a target, and I won't disappoint." Deinmaar nods and leads the way back to the gates, where he points towards the hole in the distance.

"Soon enough, a rather massive army of Falmer will overflow out of that hole. We expect their numbers to be in the high thousands."

Then Deinmaar points to the left and right side of the soon-to-be battlefield, "We will divide the area in three through ice walls raised by Leonidas. One side shall be handled by me and the mages. My brother will take another-"

"And I shall take the last." Marius nods in understanding.

And that's when I speak up, "Not alone, of course. I'll conjure a small army of sixty-four Werewolves, so that you can go wild."

Marius grins, "You really are spoiling me, Sir Leonidas."

I shrug at that before stepping forward to divide the battlefield.

I take a good visual estimate, before deciding to create the divide by placing walls from the very edges of the hole then moving them towards us.

The main flow will go to Deinmaar, the overflow from the back and sides will be divided between me, Hildr and Marius with his own group.

With the estimate done, I nod to myself and start raising the walls, making them at least five meters thick and at least two dozen meters tall.

My ice is already bullshit tough, but it is best not to risk anything.

"That should be good enough." I muse, withdrawing my gaze from the ice walls I erected. They are too slick for the Falmers to even try and climb over, plus so bullshit cold that their hands will just crumble apart if they even try.

Deinmaar pats me on the back in thanks before I move with Marius to his side, where I swiftly summon the army of Werewolves, all instantly howling and bowing before Marius massive form.

The Minotaur nods in approval at the sight before him before grinning down at me, "Seal the doors behind us, Sir Leonidas. There shall be no retreat, only victory and slaughter."

I snort, "I kinda pity the Falmers that will overflow to this side. Just a bit."

With that, I leave behind the eager for battle Minotaur and his small army, and freeze the gates closed at his request.

There is the problem of corpses highly likely piling up, which will create problems for the archers and the Mages. Marius likely won't have this problem, nor will me and Hildr-

Nevermind, Deinmaar can just evaporate them. Dude can throw around fucking plasma.

I watch the soldiers gather around Deinmaar and at the front of the gate, with two groups holding large shields before them with small gaps between each one, and another group holding incredibly long and sharp looking spears behind.

The are at least a few dozen meters ahead of the gate, giving them plenty of room to slowly fall back as they hold back the wall of Falmers that is slowly being tore down by the Mages and archers.

The walls above Deinmaar's gate are filled with quivers and arrows all over the place, with elevated areas having been made by Tolfdir to give the Mages greater aim.

We have Faralda and at least a dozen mages on our side together with Phinis working with his Necromancy. And Ancano too, for some damn reason.

I don't like his presence here, but I also don't want to send him away. For the simple reason that once he fucks up, I can just kill him on the spot.

"You'll burn a hole through his back at this point." Hildr's amused voice reaches my ears, making me turn towards the red haired beauty standing beside me, hands behind her back as her eye twinkles mischievously.

"What can I say? He is very killable." She snorts and bumps her shoulder against me, clearly in a much better mood compared to the past few days.

"You nervous?" I ask, and she surprisingly shakes her head, a serene smile on her face.

"Excited, more like." Her smile grows as she glances at me, "I am eager to show off all my hard work, you could say."

I chuckle at that, "It's just a bunch of Falmers. You and your Spirit won't be able to shine that much." It'll be like setting fire to an anthill, honestly. "Maybe we should find a Dragon for you to fight-"

I pause and freeze, earning a confused look from Hildr, "Leo?"

I send out another pulse with Mind's Eye, then another just to be extra sure.

The first one reveals hundreds, the next thousands of Falmers all crawling up the walls and all over each other, drawing closer and closer.

But they feel… different.

"They're coming!" I shout loudly, bringing all mages and soldiers to a halt for just a second before the Werewolves on Marius' side howl loudly.

"To your stations!" Deinmaar hollers from his position at the front, and I swiftly pat Hildr as we outside our own gate.

Each pulse reveals more and more of them, a literal tidal wave of skinny, bony creatures rising up from the depths of hell.

All goes quiet, the light shining high above us growing more intense to better help everyone.

Silence.

Then I feel a Falmer crawl its way up on Deinmaar's side, only to fall back when an arrow pierces through its skull, sending it falling back down the hole.

And then they came. As one. Like ants rushing out of their drowning nest, all screeching and howling and hissing madly while flaying wildly and rushing in all directions.

They crawled over each other, stomped over the fallen ones, ran into each other, and just screamed and wailed as they rushed forward, a pile of pale naked bodies that just keeps on growing.

Spells and arrows start flying instantly and mercilessly, with Marius leading the slaughter on his side and having the time of his life.

I take in the appearance of the Falmer rushing towards me and Hildr. Pale, skinny, malnourished… And changed.

Some lack arms, others have insect limbs Fleshcrafed into their sides or back or their legs.

Chaurus chitin attached to their belly, mandibles attached to their mouths, hands chopped off to make bone daggers out of their wrists.

Just what the fuck is Vulthuryol doing?

These are pets. Experiments, maybe out of amusement, fun, or boredom. Maybe all of them at the same time.

These aren't fighters, or Mages, or the cunning Falmer that initially attacked us before I froze the mountain.

No, these are the overflowing Falmer that were bred across the Eras by Vulthuryol. A sort of expendable army.

Hildr waves her arm through the air, unleashing a gargantuan wall of scorching flames that swallow the incoming tide of Falmer whole.

Yet she blinks in surprise when the majority just rush on true, flesh and muscles burning off their bodies, yet not keeping them from advancing forward. "They don't feel pain?"

Her eyes narrow, and she flicks her wrist. The air warps and twists as a literal inferno expands from her, turning flesh and bones alike into ashes within seconds and swiftly clearing our area of insane Falmer.

"They are being mind controlled." I muse. Or perhaps they are fleeing from something that terrifies them so much that even being set on fire does not make them falter.

The howls, screams and hisses from the Falmer grow louder and in quantity as the hole they are crawling out of just spews out hundreds each second.

I already have a thousand Souls… Just how many of these creatures are there?

I could Evolve, but I haven't had any time to think of a New Class I might want. Or New Classes, seeing that I'll surely be able to Evolve more than once in a row.

Oh well, they won't go anywhere, so I can just stockpile them with ease.

Me and Hildr slowly advance as I keep an eye on the other two areas with the Mind's Eye.

Deinmaar's side is in a sort of stalemate. He stands behind the wall of soldiers, watching them slide the spears back and forth, impaling dozens of Falmer at once while the shield-bearers easily hold back the screaming walls of flesh before them.

The Mages and archers are keeping them from overflowing, but the constant battering from the Spells on the brittle ground is starting to show.

A great number of Falmer are slaughtered as a huge portion of the wall cracks and falls off, allowing for a far greater number of modified Falmer to pour forward.

Marius and the Werewolves are having the time of their lives, and I haven't even activated Terra Santa to enhance our physical capabilities yet.

"Can't we just… Throw fire down the hole?" Hildr suggests, the scorching inferno around us keeping the Falmer from advancing further as they just turn to ashes within seconds due to the immense heat.

Her control is insane. It's just heat, no enormous walls of flames, and she isn't melting the ground below our feet, or even burning my robes.

"We could…" I hum as we walk forward, approaching the large hole overflowing with even more screaming Falmer.

All the battering and shaking from the Spells being launched keeps making it crack and expand more and more, which isn't really that good. We didn't expect the ground in here to be so brittle.

Though, now that I take in the size of the hole… How the fuck did Vulthuryol – who is bigger than the Dragon in Falkreath – even manage to squeeze through here last time?

I did feel his wing that time with Mind's Eye, and that wing alone was gargantuan, so the body has to be just as big, no? This hole shouldn't be big enough to allow such a Dragon to move around with ease.

The ground shakes, making Hildr momentarily stumble as another massive Spell – likely from Faralda – clears the field on Deinmaar's side and causes the hole to once more crack apart and expand.

This is both good and bad, because the falling debris and corpses end up killing countless Falmer, but it also makes more space for them to overflow out.

Lightning sparks between my fingertips, a simple Vasavi Shakti being more than enough to vaporize everything from here to the bottom. But I'd rather have my target here-

Oh, here he is. Finally.

"Vulthuryol is coming." I tell Hildr as I advance closer to the hole, now finally understanding how the Dragon manages to move around.

He modified himself. The back of his body lacks limbs, and is a long serpentine shape, allowing him to basically slither across these tunnels once his wings are tucked in.

Though, there is also a rather disgusting part to him.

The ground rumbles as a massive figure bursts out of the enlarging pit, two enormous claws coming into view and making any Falmer they land on pop like balloons as nine enormous dragon heads set on nine long necks rise into view.

Vulthuryol's body is a disgusting patchwork of countless scales and Dragon bodies, each of different color and shade, and clearly just ripped off another corpse and forcefully transplanted on this one.

"Vulthoryol!" Deinmaar's roar shook the air, the fury in his voice palpable, "You disgusting creature! You still live?!"

Heh, atta boy, Deinmaar! He'll make Vulthuryol believe that we weren't expecting his dumbass.

The nine heads turn, each regarding different targets, with only two moving to stare at Deinmaar, "Deinmaar…" The Dragon speaks in a snake-like hiss that makes Hildr shudder, "You traitorous filth… So it was you that I felt battling Alduin…"

Three of the nine dragon heads move to regard me, and I just wave at them.

I am literally standing right beside one of his two claws, and his fat ass I stopping the Falmer from rushing out, though I can still hear their wails and hisses down below.

Though, how did this bastard gain more Dragon bodies? How did he bring more Dragons down to Blackreach? Does he have a way out that we aren't aware of?

Something to find out.

"It's sad that you can't Shout." I speak up, earning the attention of all nine dragon heads, each with different sets of glowing eyes, "I was looking forward to your hollers after I gave you the same kinda backshots that killed several of your brothers."

Nine hisses flow out of Vulthuryol's jaws, and the massive dragon heads lean down to balefully glare my way, "And who are you, worm?"

I shrug, "No one, really." I wave off his attention, "Just the guy that put a hole the size of a building through Alduin's chest."

Vulthuryol stills, but I ain't done. Dude isn't even nervous that I am standing in front of him, or hasn't even noticed that I froze the edges of the pit for what I am about to do.

"Say; Have ya ever heard of Wack-A-Mole?" I lift my left hand to point at my right hand, which is clenched into a fist around a crackling and popping javelin of lightning, "This is the fuckin' hammer."

The finger then moves to point at Vulthuryol, "And you? The mole."

He moves, but I am faster.

The javelin expands, a catastrophic thunderclap rending scales and flesh from Vulthuryol's form as his claw tries to crush me into paste.

The small javelin becomes a pillar, and I lift my arm up, holding but a microscopic part of it.

The air warps and twists, then expands with a howl of heat and the deafening crackle of lightning that causes the world to flash black and white.

My ice hisses and steams from the heat, the hollow exterior of the mountain melting and glowing white as I slam down my arm.

Vasavi Shakti blooms like a Supernova in the shape of a beam that leaves spots in the air, and the whole cave rumbles as the hammer strikes the mole straight in the chest.

Vulthuryol has not time to roar, to twist or do anything else than be a damn target for a big ass pillar of lightning, because that is exactly what we wanted and what we expected.

Overconfidence. Overconfidence in the fact that he can't feel Kara or Lah around, his most hated foes that he stands no chance against.

Even Deinmaar's presence did not make him cower, and this arrogance of his is exactly what me and Deinmaar were hoping to expect and abuse.

The edges of the pit remain, but everything beneath crumbles apart as Vulthuryol and Vasavi Shakti become a glowing dot in the black abyss that awaits me below.

"Deinmaar, am leaving everything here to you, buddy!" I holler, knowing that the big guy surely heard me as I take a step forward to jump down the pit-

Before stumbling back when someone yanks at me. "Leo, what the fuck!" Hildr shouts, lone eye wide in panic as she holds onto my sleeve with both hands, trying to pull me back from the abyss just one step away.

"What?" I ask, tilting my head, "I'm just going to deal with Vulthuryol."

Hildr tries to yank me back once more, "By jumping down into the abyss?! Are you crazy!?"

"I won't even get hurt or feel it!"

"That doesn't matter!" Her voice grows desperate, "This is stupid! Move away from the edge, please!"

This is exactly why I didn't want to let her in on the plan. The needless fear or worry. "Hildr, I'll be fine, promise. I can't let this chance slip away-"

"Will you fucking stop putting the man I love in needless danger over and fucking over again?!" Hildr's scream makes me freeze.

Tears flow out of her lone eye, puffy red and narrowed in anger, fear and worry.

What did she just say?

She desperately yanks at my sleeve once more, "First with Deinmaar, then with Alduin, then with this!"

"You're slipping, and I don't know what to fucking say or do or how to act! And you keep pushing me away and hide things from me so you can do everything and that fucking hurts!"

Another yank, and this time I stumble back towards her, "So just please, step away from the edg-" A thunderclap rings out.

A bolt of lightning smashes into the brittle ground, right at the very edge of the frozen area I had created so to not let the pit expand too much.

Hildr stumbles as the ground beneath our feet gives way and starts falling, and I don't waste a second in pulling her close, "I'll throw you back up!" I shout-

But her hands grip my robes in a fierce grips as she hugs me tightly, "No!" She wails, pushing her face against my chest, "I'm not leaving you!"

God-fucking-dammit!

Juggernaut armor wraps around my body as I hug Hildr's form tightly, her breathing labored and panicked, her pupil dilated and slitted.

My ice is melting…?

I ignore the hissing and steaming of my armor as we fall, making sure that my back is the first thing to hit the ground down below.

At least Ancano finally signed his one way trip to hell ticket.

                                                                                       ….

Her shaky hand reached out to push the rubble before her aside.

The stone hissed, then bubbled, then started glowing white as she pushed and melted it aside.

Her body felt cold. Yet hot. She kept shivering and stumbling, and twitching. Her scarred yet itched. A lot.

"Leo…?" Her voice echoed in her ears, the glow of the glowing molten slag beneath her feet helping her move around the rubble.

She ignored the enormous cave she was in. The strange floating and glowing blue plants that lit it up and warded away the darkness.

The strange wildlife that fled from her.

Hildr ignored everything as she stumbled around a massive pile of debris.

Leonidas had to be beneath them. She had to help him. Find him.

"Leo…?" She called out again, her breathing growing heavier, slower. Her body started growing warm.

Her flames burned hotter against her will.

She remembered falling and hugging Leonidas. She remembered him tossing her aside and somehow halting her fall.

She remembered him hitting the ground like a meteorite before darkness filled her vision.

Her shaking gloved hand reached out to grab a massive slab of mossy stone and move it to the side.

The stone boiled and her hand went through it. She couldn't find purchase. Everything around her kept melting.

Everything around her kept burning.

Just like that day.

The ground shook beneath her feet, making her stumble and fall to her knees.

Her breathing started growing faster and faster. Her pupil dilated. Her canines sharpened.

"No…" Hildr whimpers, realization hitting her, "No, no, no-nononono…"

Her nails sharpened. Her fingers started stretching.

"Lord Hircine… You took it away…" She had asked him. He had strengthened her Spirit in turn.

He had taken away the immense power created by several dozen generations of Champions of Hircine coming together to sire the perfect descendant.

A stronger generation each time, with the first born bearing the brunt of all that power.

Despite the fact that just a portion of those blessings passes down to the firstborn, her Ancestors had discovered the they could be stacked.

Hircine never stopped them. They kept going, creating stronger and greater Champions with each generation.

Until it was her turn, and the process of constantly breeding the greatest Champion finally bit her family in the ass.

And when they made her transform to train her, she lost control.

And she melted a mountain into nothing.

Her family, gone. Her old home, gone. Her grandma took her and baby Gretel in, and Hildr forever swore to never use that power again.

"Why did you let me keep it…" Hildr whined as her body lurched, white-hot pain tearing at her insides as the air started twisting and hissing.

Then, in the back of her mind, she remembered something Leonidas had told her and Aurelia the night of the day he managed to haggle for Dawnbreaker from Meridia.

'Always watch your phrasing and words when making deals or requesting rewards from a God! They'll always try to give you as little as they possibly can or fuck you over."

Hildr hadn't even focused on those words back then, for she trusted her Lord. For she trusted Hircine.

But back then, Hildr hadn't answered. She hadn't nodded or said yes to Lord Hircine when he asked if she wanted to give up her power.

She only said that she'd keep worshiping him without it.

And he had fooled her.

The ground shakes once more, the sound of rubble moving and falling reaching her ears despite the persistent ringing she kept hearing.

Something heavy stomped on the ground, and Hildr panted as she lifted her gaze. Through her shaky vision, she could make out Vulthuryol's nine massive heads rising from the rubble Leonidas smashed him into.

Hildr grits her teeth and clenches her clawed hands, a growl rumbling out of her throat, her breath overflowing with embers.

Vulthuryol stills, then slowly turns. Nine heads and eighteen sets of eyes regard her coldly.

Greed soon fills his gaze. Greed for her power. For what his hers.

The Dragon lumbered close. The source of all these problems. The source of Leo's further carelessness.

The source of so much worry and fear, and hate-

The damn that she was so desperately trying to keep from breaking collapsed, and Hildr stopped caring.

White-hot flames washes forth, and Vulthuryol stills as a the air flees before the mad howl that blooms from within the flames.

Eighteen glowing eyes widen, then slowly look up as the ground capsizes and trembles as if a swift earthquake goes through.

The puddle of molten slag becomes an ocean of bubbling magma within the blink of an eye.

Fur as red as blood twists in the air with the heat radiating from each hair, and a colossal claw smashes down, splashing magma in all directions.

Where before Vulthuryol was staring down at a puny, ant-sized woman… He now found himself staring at a colossal wolf as tall as he was.

Vulthuryol cowers.

The one-eyed wolf roars.

The Sun blooms within Blackreach.

A.N. This was actually foreshadowed by a question I asked some time back. About how strong Hildr's wolf form was compared to Gretel's.

Plus, I did leave small crumbs that no one picked up.

Hildr never nodding or saying yes to Hircine, Gods being finnicky with deals, and what Leo said after the deal with Meridia.

Small crumbs, but still things I left to foreshadow this even when Hildr wasn't yet decided to be a main player.

And yes, she also confessed this chapter. She was always going to be the first to do so, in fact. Aurelia is too shy, while Hildr won't fuck around and be straight.

Soo… Yeah, kinda nervous on the reception of this chapter.

Hope y'all enjoyed it!

Toodles!

I, Draugr Chapter 39

When everything came to an end, Aurelia nearly crumbled to her knees, but she held strong.

She was tired, the rush of adrenaline that pumped through her veins the moment she thought of Gretel being in danger finally came to an end with a powerful crash.

Odahviing had his life spared, against her desire to absorb the Soul of a powerful Dragon Sage, due to a whisper from Paarthurnax.

Odahviing surely held knowledge that was valuable to them, and her victory over the Dragon meant she could request it from him without fear of deceit or lies.

So, she held her blade and sent the Dragon away, allowing him to join the ancient Dragon upon the Throat of the World.

Whiterun had already started rebuilding and taking apart the slaughtered Dragons, with the majority having already been dragged right in front of Jorrvaskr, allowing her to devour their Souls in one swift moment.

Her tired legs carried her to her home in Whiterun, the small cozy place having been demolished by the Dragon that ended up becoming a snack for Gretel.

The sight of the rubble before her left Aurelia feeling… Sad. This was her home with Leonidas.

Where it started as simply her keeping an eye on a random, silly Undead and waiting for him to slip and make a mistake… It instead ended with the Undead teaching her many things, opening her eyes to the whole world, and even fixing her. Or at least, putting her on the path of recovery.

It didn't really hold that many memories – aside from the memory of her hugging Leonidas – but it was still a place that, in the distant future, she looked forward to coming back.

With him, and hopefully, a few others.

A smile spreads across her face, warm and overflowing with love, when she feels a small hand grab hers. Looking down, Aurelia takes in the cleaned up form of Gretel, her hair all ruffled and still slightly damp from the bath she was likely forced to take.

"The Dragon kinda wrecked that side of the house…" The young child starts, using her free hand to point at the left side of the crumbled home. "The rest is kinda my fault. Launched his fat ass across the street though!"

Aurelia laughs, crouching down to hug and pick up the giggling girl and hug her tight, "How did you even manage to do that?"

While she had taken note of Hildr's sheer talent with Magic, Aurelia had noticed no such thing with Gretel. In fact, the girl did not even like using Magic, and had only shown a slight interest in learning it just so she could use Leonidas horrifying Magic Missile.

Aside from that, Gretel's only desire was to clearly master the gift Hircine had given her whole family for countless generations.

"Well, now that's a bit hard to explain…" Gretel huffs as Aurelia holds her close, using some rubble as a seat so to place the girl on her lap and tend to her damp hair. "Basically… You could say there are stages to a Divine Blessing?"

Aurelia tilts her head at that, "Stages?"

"Yeah, based on like… How much you worship, or how liked you are by your God, stuff like that. You know, like Champions and stuff?" Aurelia hums in understanding at that, wondering if a God's preferences matter when they pick a Champion or the like instead of always going for the strongest.

"So because Hircine adores you so much, your Lycanthropy is much stronger than usual?" Aurelia guesses, and Gretel does a cute so-so gesture with her small hands.

"From what big sis and granny used to tell me, Divine Blessings can be passed down. Just… In a very weakened form, I guess?" Gretel shrugs, "So when my family just kept making Champions or Hounds or Hunters for Lord Hircine, the blessing passed down just kept growing stronger and stronger."

"Until, at one point, our Werewolf form is no longer that of a half-wolf and half-human, but that of a giant wolf! Cool, right?!"

Aurelia believed it was far more complex than that, and she knew that Gretel likely did not pay attention during the explanation given to her by her family. Or she likely forgot. Maybe both, too.

"So you don't have a Werewolf form anymore?"

"Oh no, I do!" Aurelia sighs.

"You just said otherwise…"

"I say a lot of things. I myself am unsure on the majority of them." The child shrugs, "I just talk to talk. And annoy people."

Aurelia huffs and hugs the adorable brat tightly, a giant smile on both of their faces. "Though going big wolf form is… Kinda dangerous."

"Dangerous how?"

Reaching up, Gretel tries to scratch her cheek. Aurelia pushes down her small leg and forces the young girl to scratch herself with her hand instead of with her leg like a dog. "Makes me very hungry. The longer I use it, the harder it gets to think, so I just wanna eat and eat. Can't really use it for long though, since am so young."

Aurelia wonders if Gretel would have been alright fighting against those disgusting Argonians that were originally hunting her.

But then, if she was never in danger, Hircine would have never approached them in the first place. The Daedric Prince truly believed Gretel was in danger and wouldn't have been able to protect herself against those monsters.

"Then, could Hildr do the same?" Though, Aurelia reminded herself that Hildr gave up her blessing due to being unable to control herself.

Gretel nods, "Big Sis is on a whole other level." Her small hand waves towards a nearby home, having been spared from the majority of the destruction, "Like, my wolf form is kinda the size of that house."

"Big Sis'? That house is the size of her paw." Aurelia blanches and gapes at that.

"And that was when she was young." A sudden, powerful voice injects in their conversation, and Aurelia jumps, turning her head to regard a black crow with glowing red eyes standing beside her.

Gretel gasps and kicks her feet, "Lord Hircine!" The child greets her God with an eager wave of her hand, "Did ya see me kick that Dragon's butt?!"

A powerful, yet warm and loving chuckle flows out of the crow's beak, "It was a wonderful hunt, my dear pup. Your parents are most delighted in your achievement." Aurelia finds her heart warming at the Daedric Prince's words.

Was he keeping contact between Gretel and her deceased parents, now living and hunting freely within his Plane of Existence?

Gretel preens under the praise, a massive smug grin stretched across her adorable chubby cheeks. "In fact, someone who dearly misses you has sent you a gift."

With a flap of the crows wings, a small dagger materialized in the air between them. Pitch black, darker than a starless night, yet Aurelia could instinctively feel that it could carve through her armor like its butter.

"A dagger made out of a small piece I carved out of the World-Eater's sharp claw. A gift for you, from Leonidas."

For once, Aurelia could see Gretel be left speechless, her eyes wide and her mouth gaping as she received the gift with small, shaky hands.

Smiling softly, Aurelia pats her head and leans down to kiss her forehead, then hugs her tight when the girl sniffles softly and hides her face to not show her tears.

"He has sent a gift for you too, Dragonborn." Hircine speaks up, earning Aurelia's attention. "An upgrade to your armor, if you will."

Another flap of the wings, and Aurelia blinks as the armor around her body changed. From dark green scales to thick, heavy and dense pitch black ones, a savage aura overflowing from the thick and heavy armor that resembled her previous one.

It just felt different. The original boost from the Enchantment placed on it now was far, far greater. "What did Leo do, exactly?"

She knew he had fought Alduin and repelled the beast, but not what exactly happened during the battle. And she didn't really want to think about it, as she hated herself for not being there to do her duty.

"He just thoroughly humiliated the World-Eater, and gifted the severed claw he had left behind to me."

...Oh, she was going to do things to that dumb skeleton.

"Thank you, Lord Hircine." The Daedric Prince chuckles, though Aurelia couldn't guess whether his good mood was from Leonidas' gift, or from Gretel killing a Dragon.

Perhaps both, even.

"No need for thanks. It is my pleasure." The God states lightly, the glowing gaze of his momentary avatar gently resting on the still quietly weeping Gretel before the crow flaps its wings.

With those last words, the crow departed, and Aurelia watched it go as she hugged and patted the child on her lap.

"Shall we go get ready?" Aurelia gently whispers down towards Gretel, loving smile on her face.

Gretel sniffles and looks up, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand as she gives Aurelia a confused look.

The older woman grins at that, "Did you forget what I said earlier? We'll go to Windhelm and get back with Hildr and Leonidas."

While her training wasn't really done, Paarthurnax had told her that the rest of the training was a road she had to discover by herself.

She had learned all the Shouts, and had gained much wisdom and insights in many of them through the Dragons she slayed atop the Throat of the World, but mastering them is up to her.

She had to gain her own views and insights in them, not let herself be guided by what she gains from others.

Plus…

As Gretel hugs her tightly, Aurelia lifts her gaze towards the grand palace of Dragonsreach. The front lay demolished, but the fact that it still stood showed how quickly the Dragon that had smashed into it was slain.

For some reason, she felt like the Dragons truly fucked up with this attack.

They gave the people of Skyrim a very good reason to stop fighting and stand united.

So Aurelia truly believed that the Civil War was as good as over.

~~XXX~~

"Thought I'd find you drunk inside the tavern, not out here." I muse aloud as I approach the towering man staring out at the sea.

Deinmaar chuckles, his massive form leaned against the wall of the guard tower I found him in, "It got a bit awkward when I drank everyone under the table."

I laugh at that. I walked into the tavern and found everyone absolutely knocked out cold, some having been punched into a good night's sleep instead of having gone unconscious from too much mead.

Hell, there were several holes in the ceiling again. Pretty sure Deinmaar punched some fuckers into the stratosphere.

"So, how's the mead of the Fourth Era?" I hope on the wall, the starry sky above being quite a lovely sight that helps me relax. Even if here they are just holes in Reality left behind by Magnus and the others leaving, it is still a beautiful sight.

Deinmaar grunts and turns on his side, a light grin on his face, visible as he had removed his large dragon skull-like helmet, revealing quite the handsome man beneath with a long mane of pitch black hair that descended down his back. "Nearly took me out with one barrel, I won't lie."

"The Mead of the Merethic Era stands no chance against whatever monstrosity they put inside those barrels." The giant of a man winches, and I laugh at that. I'm sure Old Rob is proud that they nearly brought this titan of a man down with just one barrel.

Hell, I am absolutely baffled that these fuckers can drink so much powerful Mead and get to reach their eighties or higher.

Nord Livers are overpowered, I swear.

"How are you feeling now, buddy?" Deinmaar sighs, his shoulders slumping faintly as his gaze grows… distant. Lost, even.

"Better than I have in a long time." He admits after a few seconds, a light smile on his face as he turns towards me, "I'll need some time still, but I can take the final steps to recovery myself."

I reach over and pat him on the shoulder a few times, "Never think that you've done bad. I dare not imagine how many lives you saved due to your actions that day."

Deinmaar sighs and nods, "In the end, blood still needs to be spilled in order to do good. I am just… Glad that it turned out as well as I had hoped."

"Yeah…" I sigh softly at his words. 'Blood still needs to be spilled in order to do good', huh? Ain't that exactly what I need to do to grow stronger?

Curse this damnable System and powers I have.

"If I could bear all responsibilities and duties, I would." I start softly, staring out towards the dark horizon far ahead, "There is someone I care about. A lot. She was dragged into all of this by a Prophecy, forcing her to rise up and become a possible savior of this entire World."

"If I could take that role from her, I would. I'd spare her all the hardship, all the struggle, all the fighting. I'd do it all for her." I sigh and shake my head, dropping my gaze to stare down at my gauntlet-clad hands, because I cannot look at my frozen corpse. I just can't.

"But I can't do it all alone, lest I lose myself." Because one cannot give me such a quick way to gather power, but expect me not to break beneath the weight of my lack of… Everything. "So I need help."

I turn to Deinmaar, finally, "And you are one of the few that I know I can trust to keep up, and help." If I could smile, I would, "And one of the few that I know would do it all with a grin on his face."

Deinmaar chuckles softly and shakes his head, "What can I say? I do love stories of Heroes saving the day." That's fair, I kinda like those too.

"That friend you mentioned…" Deinmaar starts after a few seconds of silence, "Is she the woman I saw you leave with?"

Ah, he saw Hildr.

Thinking of the red-head makes me go a bit quiet. Her words, her worry, her hug that I couldn't feel… I'm going crazy.

And I feel so horrible.

"She's someone else I deeply care for." I sigh and lean back, "It's all so fucking complicated, and it just annoys me."

Deinmaar blinks, then his eyes widen in understanding, "Because of you being an Undead…" I nod, and he winches. "I dare not imagine the struggles you are facing, brother."

Not gonna lie, I like being called that. This guy is an homie.

"Matters of love can indeed be quite annoying." His gaze grows wistful, a faint hint of sadness visible through his smile.

I hum as I stare at him, "Let me guess… Konahriik?" He chuckles but doesn't answer.

Guess I hit the spot, huh? He had the hots for this mysterious lady, but perhaps the war starting didn't allow him to try and court her properly.

Makes me want to meet her even more.

I've never been one to get attached easily. Attracted to beauty? That is a fuck yes, and goddamn do Hildr and Aurelia blow any woman I've met throughout my life out of the park.

But I guess that my deteriorating mental state just… changed things, and now I am clearly very, very attracted to both of these wonderful women.

And ain't that a giant fuckin' headache?

I'm not blind, or these like those stupid anime characters. I can tell that Hildr is very attracted to me, and that there is mutual attraction between me and Aurelia.

Just… I do not know how to handle all this, hence why I've been acting blind.

"Fighting Alduin is easier than handling all this love bullshit."

Deinmaar nods at my wise words, "Couldn't agree more."

We share a light laugh at that before we fall quiet and just enjoy the view.

"Speaking off Alduin…" Deinmaar starts, straightening himself as he does so, "Our victory against him is a great boon, but also not."

I tilt my head at his words, "What do you meant?"

"We've likely bought ourselves and the whole of Skyrim a great deal of time with this victory. A few months at worst, a whole year or a bit more at best." If I had eyes, they'd be wide right now.

"And the bad to this is…?"

Crossing his massive arms, Deinmaar frowns, "Alduin will now fully focus on rebuilding his army and regaining his strength."

So he'll unleash death and destruction left and right in order to thrive in it.

Fuck.

"It won't just be everywhere all at once." The titan of a man explains, drawing my attention, "He can't gain strength from death that isn't within his range, which Konahriik speculated is around the size of Skyrim."

So he'll lead massacres personally. Or, where there are Dragons laying waste to the populace, Alduin is sure to be somewhere nearby.

Though, Skyrim is massive, and Alduin might as well not always be very close to the destruction his soldiers will bring.

"He'll still need to bring his soldiers to heel though, no?" I point out, which makes Deinmaar pause.

"That is true. I did not consider that." He hums and cups his chin in thought, "They will start doubting his strength. Dragon Sages are prideful and won't side with him lightly, much less the Great Sages."

Right, speaking of those… "How many Great Sages are there, to be exact?"

I know Lah is one of them, and is likely the strongest too, but me and Aurelia forgot to ask Paarthurnax about any info on the others.

"Unless things have changed, then there are just a few of them, but their might is unquestionable. Each one has a title related to their greatest Shout."

"The Frost Saint, the Sky Saint, the Force Saint, and finally, the strongest of them all…" Deinmaar wets his lips, a hint of reverence in his eyes, "The Blade Saint and Knowledge Saint."

Lah. Lah has to be Knowledge.

"The Blade Saint will be our greatest problem." Deinmaar sighs, "He was the most loyal follower of Alduin before his death. Before the war started, the Blade Saint challenged the Knowledge Saint to a battle, where he was slain in the process, but his Soul was spared due to Alduin interfering."

Well, I guess if we can get Lah on our side, then this guy won't really be much to worry about.

"Any Saint that you think might join Alduin's side?"

The Atmoran hums, "Probably the Sky Saint. He is… Fun. A 'Battle Junkie', as Konahriik used to call the guy." Huh, now that is hilarious.

"As for the other two, I do not know. The Force Saint I've seen from a distance, but I've never seen the Frost Saint before, and heard very little about them too."

Bad, but not worrying I guess. At least we are aware of them.

I sigh and cross my own arms, "So, we got time… Might as well use it as best as we can." Then a thought hits me, and I couldn't help but snort softly.

"What is it, brother?"

"I just find it hilarious that the very essence of a Dragon's being is being used against them." I point out with no small amount of amusement, which bring a chuckle out of Deinmaar.

Once more, silence falls between us. Calm and comfortable.

Though it doesn't last long, as soon the man blinks in confusion and scratches at his chin in thought.

"Brother…" He starts as he looks around, "I just noticed, but… I'm pretty sure there was supposed to be a lot more land here."

I pause at his confused words, then realization hits me. Ah, he must've done his stuff before Miraak's betrayal and eventual ass-kicking.

"Allow me, my dear friend, to tell you about the meanest ass-beating a motherfucker has caught within these lands."

And so, I tell Deinmaar about Miraak, and the vicious ass-beating that made him delusional.

~~XXX~~

"Everyone here?"

"Everyone of importance, yes." I don't miss the amused twitch of the lips from Savos at my words.

Especially after I bitch-slapped and kicked Ancano out of the room.

"Alright." I clap my hands together as I stand over the large table in the middle of the room, "First of all, introduction are in order. Everyone, this is Deinmaar."

I wave to the titan of a man standing beside me, who gives a light bow of his head, his helmet back on, "He is a Dragon Priest from the Merethic Era. One you can fully trust."

Old Rob, of course, couldn't help but pipe, "And any cunt that can't trust that big motherfucker is gonna get stabbed. By me, obviously." Yes, thank you for your support, good sir.

Can you even hit your target with that weird fuckin' eye of yours?

Somehow, I think the old man heard my thoughts, 'cause now he is glaring my way. Anyway. "Deinmaar, these are the teachers of the College of Winterhold, each one a master of a different school of magic, with Savos Aren over there being the current Archmage."

The teachers bow their heads in greeting, some in genuine awe while others in a mix of fear and apprehension.

"And finally, this is Hildr, a dear friend of mine." I nod towards the red-haired woman standing beside me, and lingering very close to me. After yesterday, she has been very quiet, and has just quietly hovered around me.

Her attire was a bit different this time, as Hircine delivered the gift I requested from our quick deal.

Her pants, boots and gloves were made from the scales of Alduin, with her fluffy white shirt now covering the under-armor suit that went beneath.

Plus, as a finish touch, she now has a lone small scale from Alduin as her new eyepatch. Her old one is now in the trash, which tells me she quite likes this gift of mine.

"It is a pleasure to meet all of you." Deinmaar rumbles out, arms crossed before him, "I will not ask all of you to trust me. I simply plan on earning that right through my own actions."

The first to speak was surprisingly Colette, the Restoration Master, "Leonidas vouches for you, so I already like you, big guy!" Hildr, don't glare at the woman so harshly. She is already sweating and regretting her words.

Still, she's so damn cute. Like a territorial puppy.

"Don't worry, your charm will conquer 'em all in no time, buddy." I pat Deinmaar's back before clapping my hands together, "Now, to focus on why I gathered and dragged all of you here." Yes, I had to bodily drag Savos here.

He was drinking himself under the table with the excuse of 'There's another one...'.

Dragon Priest trauma is one hell of a thing.

"It's the Falmer issue, right?" Faralda asks, and I nod, making the small room get serious.

Funnily enough, Deinmaar did not know what the Falmer were exactly, due to them becoming a thing after the Merethic Era.

"With the big guy on our side, its time we get serious and start taking on the issue instead of just waiting around." With a gesture, I let Deinmaar take the table. The dude has taken part in many battles, so I can trust his judgment when it comes to making plans for battles and wars.

Stepping forward, Deinmaar speaks, "For starters, I will bring forth some bad news." He starts, making everyone perk up, "The Falmers are being led by a Dragon." His hand comes up just as everyone other than Hildr and Savos jump at the information.

"While bad, the Dragon is not a problem. He is but an annoyance, at most." The teachers visibly relax at Deinmaar words, "Vulthuryol is his name, a disgusting Dragon that weaponized the immortality of his race… And practices an accursed form of Necromancy called Fleshcrafting."

Phinis, the current Conjurer Master at the College, perks up in horror and disgust at that, "That accursed practice?! And a Dragon of all things is making use of it?!"

I couldn't help but perk up at that, "What exactly is Fleshcrafting?" Far as I know, Phinis is trying to make Necromancy not appear as bad due to the actions of other twisted idiots, yet now a branch of it is bringing out such horror from the guy.

Phinis pales and gulps, "It's a practice that centers around tearing body parts from corpses… And infusing them on other corpses to create a Golem, or attaching them to one's living body."

Well… That sounds as disgusting and as horrid as I could have expected. Good thing Aurelia isn't here, then.

Nodding, Deinmaar speaks up, "Vulthuryol was a criminal among the Dragon Race. He killed his own kind and Fleshcrafted their bodies upon his own."

"Before I was… imprisoned, Vulthuryol had a total of three heads and a massive body."

And when Kara and Lah nearly vaporized him and punched a hole down to Blackreach, he had five heads in total.

Now, nearly four whole Eras after, he probably has quite a few more.

"I sense some good news among this information." Savos speaks up, and Deinmaar nods at the Archmage.

"Vulthuryol is unable to use Dragon Shouts." I reel back in surprise at that.

"He can still use breath attacks, but they are negligible in power compared to other Dragons."

I cup my masked chin in thought, "So that must be why he is Fleshcrafting Dragon heads upon himself. Quantity over quality." Deinmaar nods at my words.

What an utterly disgusting being. I guess I can see why he hates Lah so much and has attacked him so many times.

Of course the Dragon that cannot master anything hates the Dragon that has mastered everything. Lah is basically everything Vulthuryol clearly craves but can never achieve.

"Then what is our plan of action regarding him?" Hildr speaks up, leaning close against me.

"Leave him to me and Leonidas." Deinmaar declares, "The best way to handle him, is to obliterate his whole body in one decisive blow. Me and Leonidas can handle that once he shows himself."

His gaze then lowers down to stare at the teacher, "Your assistance will be in handling the more important issue; The Falmer."

"Our best course of action is to challenge them within the mountain. We breach in, gain ground, seek the assistance of Alteration Mages to create a fortress to stand and defend in and tear through their numbers."

"Mages will rain down Spells and archers will rain down arrows, while the guards will mow down any that grow close."

I speak up soon after, "My large scale Restoration Spell will also empower the soldiers and make them nigh-immortal as long as they protect their heads."

"And I can take care of any severed limbs!" Colette calls out, and I nod in her direction.

Old Rob grunts and crosses his arms, "So we give the soldiers some good helmets? Easy enough."

Faralda raises her hand right after, "Is it wise to take the fight within the mountain, though?"

"A fair worry." Deinmaar nods, "But yes, it is best we do so and keep the outside in case we need to retreat. If we let them overflow out, they can damage the city with Spells flying in all directions, and their corpses will just pile up, allowing them to climb higher and higher."

Faralda nods and relaxes, visibly liking the fact that Deinmaar is worried for the city getting damaged during the battle by stray Spells.

"How many soldiers should we recruit, then?" Savos asks, a hand on his chin.

Deinmaar hums and crosses his massive arms once more, then turns towards me, "What do you suggest, brother?"

I reach up to rub the necklace Hircine gifted me as I think for a few short seconds, "One-hundred soldiers. Sword and shields. The archers don't even need to be good shots, they just need to rain arrows as fast as they can, because we are facing such numbers that the arrows will hit anyway."

"Plus, I can call upon a veritable army through a gift from Hircine. I am good friends with one of his powerful Hunters, so with him and a battalion of Werewolves, we don't need to sacrifice too much manpower."

Been a while since I called on Marius too. Gotta let the big guy enjoy such a large scale battle, as he seems to be a fan of those.

Phinis hums and cups his chin in thought before turning towards Savos, "Archmage, permission to use Necromancy during the battle? I can turn a few dozen fallen Falmers to fight on our side."

Savos nods, "I have no objection. What about everyone here?" We all just shake our heads, because it is indeed a good plan. "You have the go ahead, Phinis."

"Word of warning…" I speak up once more, "Be mindful of the Spells that are launched. The ground inside the mountain can likely collapse with ease, and that means a very long drop kilometers long."

I lean back, then hum and tilt my head to the side, "Anything else we might be missing?"

There is short lapse of quiet as everyone mulls over the plan, before Hildr speaks up from beside me, "The Falmer could have other exits and may try to attack from other fronts."

Right, absolutely forgot about that. I've checked the city already with my Mind's Eye and found no tunnels dug beneath it, but the Falmer might have made other exits. Better not risk that.

"Then we can divide our forces." Savos suggests, then turns towards his colleagues, "Mirabelle, take Nirya and some of the other students to guard the walls. I will stand at the ready to assist any side that requires assistance."

Sounds like we got everything mostly under control and decided, then. It's nice to see everyone work together.

Mainly because Ancano isn't here, lest he'd have fucked up a lot of stuff. Not that he won't try to do it once the battle starts.

"We done with planning then?" Old Rob grunts out, then grunts again when we nod, "Good, let's start preparing a good welcome for them filthy, inbred, blind, skeever-fucking dark-dwelling piss-smelling-"

I tune out the river of insults flowing out Old Rob's mouth as he walks out the room, the slurs growing worse with each passing second and earning wince after wince by the surrounding mages and Deinmaar himself.

"You good, buddy?" I ask Deinmaar, who sulks slightly as everyone other than Hildr walks out of the room to go and prepare for the attack.

"You told me the history between my people and the Snow Elves…" He starts, his voice strangely quiet, "And I really want to side with my people, but…"

"But?"

"But Konahriik is a Snow Elf herself…"

Huh…

Welp.

I pat him on the back, "Well, you know what they say, buddy…" I start in comfort, making him perk up.

"Fuck over her Race and then fuck her in the puss-"

"LEO!"

Why do people always stop me from giving others the best advice in the Universe?

Sigh…

I am never appreciated here, I swear.

A.N. Small Interlude chapter to set up the next series of chapters that shall mark the end of this Arc!

Also, honestly, the Multiverse traveling might appear soon.

What worlds would ya like to see everyone travel to?

Also, remember how I once had Leo fear the existence of a Dragon wielding the power of Autism?

Yeah, that's the Sky Saint. Am gonna love writing that goofball.

Either way, hope y'all enjoyed the chapter!

Toodles!

I, Draugr Chapter 38

It wasn't over yet.

That was the thought that rang within both Deinmaar's and Leonidas' minds at the same time.

Even with such a grievous wound and a severed arm, they both knew that Alduin wouldn't go down so easily.

And go down easily he did not.

Baleful red eyes widened in pure, overflowing fury. A roar of madness flowed through open jaws before two gargantuan winds flapped, displacing the very air with a catastrophic, ear-deafening crack.

The World-Eater's bleeding form blurred across the air, slamming into the cracking and crumbling ice pillar, right where Leonidas lay, the sheer speed behind the massive Dragon catching the Undead off-guard.

But he was fast enough to call upon the Juggernaut Spell, saving himself from being turned into dust by the enormous claws that slammed him into the ice below, pulverizing the majority of the surrounding ice and pinning him down to the broken pillar.

"The fuck do you want now, you goddamn tripod!?" Leonidas hollers as the giant beast presses down with his one good claw, nails digging through compact ice like it was butter.

Alduin's answer was a point-blank roar, and Leonidas, being his usual self, just screamed back at Alduin without care despite only his head being visible between the gaps of Alduin's claws.

Then he stopped screaming and tilted his head to the side, "Oh, what's that behind you?!"

Of course, Alduin had no time to react before a massive javelin of lighting pierced down from the Heavens and slammed straight into his back, the heated lightning flowing through the gaping hole in his chest and back and tearing through his exposed insides.

The World-Eater howled due to the overflowing pain, his body twisting against his will, allowing Leonidas to swiftly roll out from beneath the claw that pinned him to the ground and jump back to his feet.

And he did not waste a second to get revenge for being pinned down.

The human body had a safety measure where it would subconsciously hold back its true strength so to not damage itself when throwing a punch against something hard.

But the body of an Undead that feels no pain does not have such a safety measure, and Leonidas right arm sparkled with a dozen stars before he punched upward.

His uppercut smashed into Alduin's lowered jaw, slamming it against the upper one and making his brain rattle in his skull, the sheer force behind the blow pulverizing the frozen platform and lifting the World-Eater's upper body, his hind legs resting and slipping off the very edge of the crumbling pillar.

And Leonidas shoulder-charged into his exposed belly, throwing them off the platform and sending them hurtling down towards the bottom.

Baleful red eyes blink, and Alduin growls, staring down at his as the Anomaly stood up on his back.

Then lifted one hand to give him the middle finger as sparks of lightning overflowed out of his frozen skull, "This all you fuckin' got, World-Eater?!"

His insane cackle was followed by a deafening thunderclap as another javelin of lightning crashed down from the Heavens and into Alduin, turning them both into a meteorite that swiftly crashed down onto the frozen ocean below.

Deinmaar stumbles slightly from the impact, falling to one knee as he pants heavily, his body feeling so heavy and tired.

After being still for countless centuries, all of this was taxing upon him. The battle in the temple mentally taxed his already exhausted self, then Alduin's arrival just made it all worse.

A part of him wanted to just slump down and fall into eternal sleep. To just… Rest. A rest he did not deserve, but one he yearned for. Even if it will be haunted by nightmares.

His fist clenched around the handle of his greatsword, and he screwed his eyes shut after stealing a single glance at it.

For a moment, he saw the blood of his comrades dripping from the blade and from his hands.

"Deinmaar." A voice called to him. A voice that kept him company for many moons. A voice that read him books, and told him about the history he missed, of battles he'd loved to take part in, of moments he wanted he wanted to witness with his own eyes.

"Deinmaar, look at me." He did. He lifted his head and stared at those flickering green flames of the man that offered him a hand out of the dark abyss.

Alduin had been buried in the frozen ocean once more, but it was temporary. He had to stand. He had to fight.

Yet he felt so weak. So useless.

"Back there, in that graveyard?" Leonidas speaks up, his voice heavy yet gentle, "We were just two nobodies, fighting over nothing, in the middle of fucking nowhere."

Deinmaar wanted to argue. He wanted to say that his crime wasn't 'nothing'. That his guilt wasn't for 'nothing'.

But his mouth opened, and no protest came to the surface.

"But right here, right now?" The Undead stresses, "We are two crazy sons of bitches trying our hardest to make a difference."

One hand was offered to him once more, "Let's make it count, buddy."

Any doubt, any fear, any negative thought- They were all squashed instantly. Deinmaar breathes in and clasps that offered hand without hesitation and stands upon his feet, filled with renewed vigor and energy.

A shock-wave ripples forth just as he does that, nearly making them both stumble as the frozen ocean surface started sinking in.

A vacuum of air came into existence, a loud persistent howl accompanying the storm of gales rushing down towards that swiftly expanding sinkhole that devoured everything in sight.

Gargantuan wings as black as the night flapped loudly, slowly dragging the wounder and bleeding form of the World-Eater back into view and up in the air.

The world started going dark as soon as the World-Eater came into view, as within his jaws lay something that could devour anything and everything, be it material or immaterial.

A Black Hole.

Light, wind, the frozen ocean, gravity- It all was being sucked in, reduced to powder from the sheer pressure of the gravitational anomaly.

But where one would have despaired at such a sight, Leonidas merely tilted his head, "I've watched so much anime that I know how to counter such bullshit." He shrugs while Deinmaar perks up.

The Undead flicks his wrist, and large, tough chains of ice shoot out of the ice far behind and below Alduin, curving up in the sky and around his form to reach his jaws.

Baleful red eyes widen a second too late as those frozen chains wrap around his jaws- Then slam them shut around the gravitational anomaly.

The ensuing explosion was gory. Scales, bones and blood flew everywhere as Alduin's lower jaw was pulverized, while his upper jaw was mangled beyond belief.

A cry of pain barely flowed out of the giant Dragon as he started falling once more before a massive figure pounced at the chance, massive fist drawn back-

Then punching straight through Alduin's right eye, sending more blood flying everywhere as the wounded and crippled Dragon howled and tossed around in the air before crashing back down in the pit of his own creation.

With a grunt, Deinmaar lands, having been yanked back to the ground by a frozen chain, his gaze falling down into the pit below. "He is persistent, I'll give him that."

Leonidas nods with a low hum, "I don't think he ever fought someone that could match him in power." He hums softly, but soon perks up when Deinmaar shakes his head.

"No, he must have." Deinmaar states heavily, staring down at one of his hands with a glare, "After she imprisoned me, Konahriik took him on. I felt the after-shocks of their battle for an entire month."

Leonidas hissed at that, "I asked Krosis about her, but the guy nearly pissed himself when he heard her name."

Deinmaar chuckles at that, "When I… rebelled." The giant of a man states, using a word that did not leave a bad taste in his mouth, "Krosis was one of the newer Dragon Priests. He survived for not having a high enough status to have a seat in the Council."

Leonidas wondered how the other Dragon Priests survived. Did they ignore the summons, or were some of them similar to Krosis? Or were they people recruited in a hurry to try and refill their now empty ranks?

"Think she's still alive?" The Undead questions, and Deinmaar's shoulders sag.

"She must be." The giant of a man whispers, "Otherwise, the chains binding me would have disappeared."

Leonidas sighs, then shakes away those thoughts, his gaze flicking back to the pit Alduin had fallen into. His broken and heavily wounded form stirred for a moment-

"Slen-Tiid-Vo."

Three simple whispered words.

The gaping hole in his chest was stitched back together like it was never there. His destroyed jaws were back to normal the next second, and a new claw replaced his severed one.

All wounds upon him were gone within seconds.

"You gotta be fucking kidding me…" Both Undead and Atmoran whispered at the same time at the sight.

They both swiftly readied themselves for another grueling fight, but when Alduin lifted his head to gaze at them once more, the rage they expected to see within his eyes wasn't there.

Instead, there was fear.

Two giant wings flapped, and the enormous Dragon blasted out of the hole, into the skies, and swiftly escaped towards the horizon without saying a word.

Both men stared at the World-Eater's retreating figure grow smaller and smaller for several seconds before looking at each other.

Then they burst out in loud fits of laughter.

"He ran! That bitch fuckin' ran! Hah!" Leonidas wheezed as he sat on the ground, Deinmaar's huge form falling down right beside him, his own laughter ringing loud and filled with satisfaction.

"A claw and an eye…" The giant Atmoran sighs out, "They might not be his life, but I still made him bleed plenty."

"And squeal like a lil' bitch."

"That was mostly you, brother." Deinmaar points out, "Those javelins of lightning of yours were terrifying."

"Talks the dude that body-slammed the fucking World-Eater like it was nothing." Leonidas huffs and sulks like a child, "Shoulda gone for his asshole like all the other Dragons."

"...I don't even want to know the history behind those words."

Chuckling, Leonidas sits up and nods in satisfaction, "Well, we survived." He drawls out before staring down at the prone Atmoran, "Ready to go back home, pal?"

Deinmaar breathes in, then slowly sits up and nods, "Yeah. I think I'm ready."

He is once more helped back to his feet by Leonidas, who chuckles softly, "Welcome to the team of misfits, then!"

"There's more people like you?"

"Just one. She's a little adorable brat that loves traumatizing people when bored. I am and will always be the main inconvenience, of course."

Speaking of Gretel, an idea suddenly rings within Leonidas' mind, and his gaze flicks left and right until he finds his target discarded several dozen meters in the distance.

Alduin's severed claw, bigger and taller than a three story building.

If Leonidas could grin, he would be putting the Cheshire Cat to shame right now.

"Hircine, my homie! Ya want some World-Eater meat on your menu tonight?!"

Deinmaar watched as the Undead happily skipped towards the large severed claw, bantered with a random bird for a good minute, the skipped back while humming a very jovial tune after the severed claw disappeared into thin air.

"So… You just talk to Daedric Princes like they are old friends?" The titan of man found that oddly confusing and weird.

Who the hell does that?

"Yeah?" Leonidas, obviously. "Apparently, my brother from another mother, the great and wise and mighty Sheogorath, really wants to meet me in person."

"He is currently running the gauntlet against all the other Gods that do not wish to see this glorious meeting happen. Last I've heard from Hircine, Sheogorath had Molag Bal in a chokehold for like… The fifth time this month?"

Deinmaar was at a loss for words.

What kind of friend did he just make?!

With a flick of his wrist, Leonidas Conjures two large Werevultures… Then looked between Deinmaar and one of the conjured beasts.

Deinmaar was quite a bit taller, and he swiftly felt offended when Leonidas Conjures a third one 'For good measure'.

Still, he didn't refuse the lift, and quietly watched as they left behind the crumbling frozen ocean behind, and as Winterhold came back into view over the horizon and slowly got closer and closer.

The giant of a man watched as people gathered on the walls the moment their arrival was spotted, the three giant Werevultures setting them down right in front of the open of the City he called home.

"So…" Leonidas – who put the Krosis Mask back on during the flight back – started as he stepped forward, slapping Deinmaar's large arm with a chuckle, "Old Rob, heard ya were looking for a 'Guardian'?"

Among the gathered people beyond the main gates was an imposing old man that steps forward without fear even when the giant of a man stood two times taller than him.

The old Nord stared up at the giant Atmoran for several quiet seconds… Before offering his hand. "Welcome back home, son."

Deinmaar takes in a slow, shaky breath before clasping that offered arm with his own and giving it a firm shake. "I've made you all wait too long."

"Bah!" Old Rob sneers and slaps the giant over the shoulder without care or fear, "Shut the fuck up and come get your fuckin' barrel of mead already!"

"Just a barrel?" Leonidas pipes in, waving a hand towards the titan of a man, and Old Rob squints his one good eye back at Deinmaar.

"By Akatosh's hairy asshole, I don't think I got enough barrels for this son of a bitch…"

Leonidas shrugs, "Just hope that the mead is strong enough to put him down before he finishes all the barrels?"

Those words light a fire in the eye of every Nord within hearing distance, "Now that sounds like a challenge to me!" Old Rob hollers, nostrils snorting steam like a bull, "Bring your fat ass in, Deinmaar! Lemme show ya how the proper Nord Mead of the Fourth Era is far better than whatever Skeever piss y'all used to drink back in the day!"

Hanging back, Leonidas watched as Deinmaar was dragged into the City by the descendants of people who never forgot about him, and who waited entire Eras for his return.

The flames within his eyes flickered purple for yet another moment that went unnoticed by all, but they went back to normal as soon as he shook his head.

Despite how mentally exhausted he was after that far too risky and sudden fight, he still made sure to keep up appearance and straighten his shoulders-

A lone figure stepped out of the open gates, and Leonidas' composure faltered but for a moment.

Hildr gazed at him with her lone eye glistening with unshed tears and overflowing with worries, and that look alone stopped Leonidas from greeting her in any of his usual ways.

Any of the words he wanted to say just failed him. His mind just… Refused to collaborate. He was beyond tired.

He stumbles slightly in place when Hildr throws herself at him and hugs him tightly, her hands and arms shaking as she holds him with as much strength she could muster.

Within his mind, Leonidas found himself cursing the Gods for being unable to even feel a hug that he really, really wanted.

But outside, he merely starts patting Hildr's back, "I'm okay." He whispers softly in her ear, "I'm okay."

"No you're not!" Hildr cries out against his shoulder, "I can see you slipping away more and more each passing day!"

Her grip on his robes grows even tighter, "Just… Please, let's go to Saarthal already…"

Shaking his head, Leonidas pulls away and takes one of her hands in his, "Come on, I got a present for you."

"D-Don't just change the subject!" She whines even as she lets Leonidas drag her back into the City and ignore his issues.

"Meh." The Undead shrugs without care, receiving a kick to the shin that he doesn't even feel, "I made sure Gretel and Aurelia get a present too."

"Hopefully, Gretel will love her new dagger made out of a nail that comes from the World-Eater."

Hildr bit on her lower lip even as she squeezed Leonidas' unaware hand as hard as she could.

She hated how easily he toyed with her heart.

~~XXX~~

A meteor crashes down in a distant, empty valley far outside of Skyrim.

Beasts, animals and birds swiftly make themselves scarce as the presence of the Apex Predator among them spreads forth, and Alduin's form stumbles out of the crater his form had created.

He now saw his weakness.

He saw what he lacked.

He saw what he needed to improve on.

What good was all his might if he didn't know how to use it? What good was his title when he didn't have the might to back it up?

Alduin cursed his laziness. Alduin cursed himself for not improving upon what he has.

He achieves strengths far easier and faster than all of the other Dragons, and that together with his role got to his head.

He thought himself untouchable.

And now, this was his third greatest loss. Worse than all the other ones.

Konahriik had toyed with him at the start of the war, stalling him for an entire month, allowing the races of Men and Mer to overthrow his kind now that they did not have the cunning guidance of their slaves.

And then, when he had managed to… 'Remove' her off the board and join the fray, his might instantly became useless.

For he too fell into a trap due to his pride and hubris, and had an accursed Elder Scroll turned upon him, sealing him across time and space and robbing him of his immense might.

And then, the Anomaly and the Traitor wounded him. The first ones to do so since he came to be.

The World-Eater gnashes his teeth, swearing vengeance within his mind.

He would lay waste upon that land. Leave it a scorched wasteland where naught but filth and cockroaches will be able to survive in.

But to do that, he needed his might back. And to gain it back, he needed slaughter.

The light of the Sun above shining down him was suddenly interrupted, and Alduin's baleful red eyes narrow as he stands to face the newcomer.

A Dragon, much smaller in size than him but with a presence far greater than his own, sat upon the hill before the World-Eater.

The Sun shone down on his royal blue scales, apathetic glowing golden eyes sparkling like gems beneath a pair of curved golden horns, staring straight at Alduin as if he were a mere inconvenience.

The World-Eater growls, "Lah."

The Great Sage feared within his kind merely blinks slowly at Alduin.

"What do you want?"

The wings of the seated Dragon shudder as if he merely gave them a light stretch, either uncaring or not noticing how tense the World-Eater was. "I am… Displeased."

The Great Sage starts, voice dignified and soft. "Your rather pathetic temper tantrum… It could have endangered my dearest Wife."

Indifferent golden eyes lock onto Alduin, and the World-Eater feels his very instincts howl at him-

"May you never repeat this mistake again if you do not wish to anger me."

A relaxed flap of wings, a flex of Illusion Magic, a thousand voices Chanting as one in the languages of Men and Dov.

And the Heavens wailed as they crashed down like the gavel of a furious God.

An endless abyss is punched into the earth, one Lah didn't even bother to stand around and watch as it took shape.

He merely cast a longing gaze in a general direction.

"Wait for me, my dear. I will find a way to grant you Eternity by my side."

A.N. And with this chappy, the end of this arc draws closer!

The group's reunion will be in a few chapters, and Deinmaar has joined the gang of misfits, something he will regret very soon!

And also, with the end of this Arc will also come Leonidas's strongest power-up just yet! One I am eager to write about!

Finally, I wanted to share some things!

First of all, my favorite type of Villain is the one that learns and becomes more terrifying after each loss!

Second, do y'all wanna know how big of an impact Leonidas has had so far on the whole story?

In the 'canon' of this Skyrim world, they would still have won of course, but at a great loss.

Aurelia would have completed her duty and gone back to being a Paladin afterward.

Hildr would have lost Gretel in Falkreath, then would have gone to the College and completed that questline there, becoming so powerful she defeats the Dragon Priest holding the Staff of Magnus and becoming the next Archmage.

Deinmaar? Bit of a spoiler, but he would have never existed if it weren't for Leonidas!

I like writing a character that, despite being an idiot, has an enormous impact upon the world without realizing.

So yeah, I am loving writing all of this!

Hope y'all enjoyed!

Toodles!

I, Draugr Chapter 37

The Whirlwind Sprint Shout was the Shout she hated the most. The amount of times she nearly fell off High Hrothgar while training with couldn't be counted.

The burst of speed was too sudden. Too fast. Even with her insanely enhanced senses and strength and speed, it was still far too much for her to perfectly handle.

And now here she was, facing a Sage who likely held mastery over that damnable Shout.

Odahviing was a literal whirlwind, the very skies collapsing down in his wake. Roaring tornadoes of sharp, merciless winds tore through the valley, rising dust and shattered earth that the nimble Dragon used as cover to pounce around her.

Aurelia's mind trails to a time before she came to Skyrim, when she happened upon a beast that fought just like this. Sneaking around and using ambushes.

It had left her with a nasty scar over her back, but it had taught her a lesson.

On how to deal with such opponents.

The hair on the back of her neck stand on end as her instincts scream, and her grip over Dawnbreaker tightens enough to make her knuckles pop.

Odahviing pounces once more, surging out of a nearby tornado with terrifying speed.

Only for a brilliant to suddenly blind the beast, causing him to release a startled roar and stumble in his rush, his enormous form smashing through the earth and hills painfully.

Aurelia spun around and surged forward, capitalizing on this chance. Dawnbreaker blazes brilliantly, and its heated blade punches through tough scales and flesh alike as Aurelia stabs it clear through Odahviin's tail.

A roar of pain comes from the Dragon, and his sharp claws end up working against it as Aurelia wraps her arms around the massive tail and pulls, dragging the mighty beast with laughable ease.

With a deep inhale through her nostrils, Aurelia spins around and yanks on the tail, then she keeps spinning as the mighty Dragon Sage is yanked down on his side, then through the earth.

Aurelia kept spinning, faster and faster, dragging the beast through ruined earth and hills before his form starts rising in the air from how fast she was spinning.

The world became a blur, but Aurelia ignored it all as she felt herself reach her maximum momentum.

With a twist and turn in her grip, Odahviing's form rose further in the air until the beast drew a perfect Crescent Moon in the air with his trajectory.

And with a grunt, Aurelia slams the enormous Dragon into the earth with enough force to collapse the entire valley, the destruction nearly reaching the distant farms as earth and debris surged skyward.

Until a second Sun came into existence, "Yol-Toor-Shul!" A tsunami of white-hot flames washed forth, scorching the earth clean and setting the tornadoes alight, burning the terrible winds out existence as the earth melted and pools of boiling magma spread.

Dawbreaker swung upward before the scream of her instinct could even be fully registered by her brain, the massive form of Odahviing surging out of the pool of magma with naught a scratch to his form, deadly claw crashing down with immense force.

Scales parted before Dawnbreaker's sharpness, but the blade was far too small to stand against the immense claw, and the force of the blow slammed Aurelia into the earth, making her choke from the burning and fierce pain.

"Fus-Ro-Dah!" Her surroundings were vaporized, and the pressure on her was lifted as Odahviing was launched into the skies from the catastrophic blast of air that punched a hole into the hurricane above. A hole that was swiftly patched, annoyingly enough.

Clicking her tongue and watching the Dragon Sage stabilize himself in the sky, Aurelia breathes in through her nostrils and jumps out of the crater she had created with the Unrelenting Force Shout.

This wasn't a battle where she could prevail using might alone. Odahviing was far too wise to let her use his pride to her advantage.

And despite herself… She did not wish to use the Dragon Rend Shout, at least not yet. This was an honorable battle, one that she was going to respect as much as possible.

"How truly magnificent, Dovahkiin." The flying Dragon praises, pride evident in his booming voice, "Truly, the Dovahkiin is a wondrous existence."

"The pure might of the Thu'um from us Dov, mixed with the controlled technique of the races of Men. It leaves me in awe." A lone flap of massive wings caused the hurricane above to howl and churn.

Aurelia licks her lips and breathes in, her instincts screaming at her as she felt Odahviing grow more and more dangerous. Their previous exchanges must've been nothing more than a warm-up for the Dragon Sage.

And he was dangerously smart too. He had been able to see the changes she had applied to the Unrelenting Force Shout pretty much instantly.

She had hoped the blast would have ripped his claw apart, as she had made it so the Shout came out in a concentrated beam of energy, but all it did was shred the scales apart and leave that arm still functional, but its flesh now lay mangled and torn.

Odahviing stares down at her, each flap of his enormous wings sending forth a blast of pressurized winds in all directions, making her eyes sting more and more with each blast.

Until, finally, she allowed herself a short moment to blink.

And that is when her instincts howled as the ground behind her caved in due to a massive form slamming into the earth with speed comparable to that horrifying Spell Leonidas hurls around.

She flips around, eyesight blurry due to her eyes still being partly irritated, and pain explodes all over her form.

Gashes cover her armor, arm and shoulders as Odahviing disappears once more, tearing at her with sharp blades of winds, turning the contest of might into one of speed.

Despite his size, the Dragon Sage showcased his mastery over the Whirlwind Shout by becoming a blur, too fast for Aurelia to follow, blood seeping from the gashes and wounds left upon her form from the initial attack.

A burst of Holy Magic flows out of her, instantly healing the wounds and soothing her pain as she straightens herself, Dawnbreaker twirling in her grasp before she sheathes it on her back.

Her eyes flicked left and right as she stood still, watching as the blur flying by all around her left gouges into the earth with his passing.

Licking her lips, a cheeky grin suddenly spreads across her face as she lifts one free hand. A blinding brilliance of golden light erupts out of her form, cloaking her from view as she whispers her Shouts, "Iiz-Slen-Nus."

The Dragon Ice Blade formed into her hands, bringing with it a chill greater and deadlier than the waters north of Skyrim.

Her grin grows when she feels Odahviing pounce once more, trusting her hard-trained instincts once more as she flips the Dragon Ice Blade in her grasp… And stabs it into the ground.

A glacier roars into existence as a wave of glacial might washes forth, freezing the entire valley and the charging Dragon Sage solid, his enormous sharp claw outstretched and inches away from her back.

Her left hand opens as Aurelia whirls around to stare at the frozen Dragon, "Fus-Ro-Dah." A bluish blade that twisted the space and air around it formed in her grasp, and Aurelia swiftly swung it at the momentarily frozen Dragon.

A simple, relaxed, upward slash that allowed the tip of the blade to hit the Dragon Sage straight in the jaw.

The ensuing blast was ear-splitting, pulverizing the land of jagged frozen spikes she had conjured and nearly demolishing Odahviing's lower jaw, sending the Dragon hurling and back-flipping through the air from the horrendous concentrated impact.

Eyes wide, pupils dilapidated and enormous battle-hungry grin on her face, Aurelia watched as the Dragon stabilized himself, and one of its eyes looked in a certain direction before vanishing.

Her grin grows near predatory, "Oh, I understand it now!" With a crazed giggle that could have made Leonidas both proud and afraid, Aurelia speaks yet another three Words, "Wuld-Nah-Kest!"

A sonic-boom cracks the air in her wake, and Odahviing's eyes widen as the massive beast reels back in shock when she appears right before him.

His gaze then flicks away and he vanishes, only to once more reel back in shock when the Dragonborn is right there a split-second after.

"So that's how the Whirlwind Sprint Shout works!" Aurelia laughs, feeling like an idiot for having never grasped its simple concept until now.

It was based on sight. It would hurl her a certain distance, in the very direction she was staring at, even if she wasn't fasting it.

Unwilling to admit his loss, the Dragon Sage becomes a blur once more, the Dragonborn in his wake, their forms traveling and circling the valley around Whiterun within moments.

Until, finally… Aurelia's words were faster than Odahviing's gaze.

His form appears in a blur of speed right before the downward swing of a space-rupturing blade that smashes into his skull, shattering several of his sharp teeth and hammering half of his body into the earth.

The Dragonborn twirls in place, Dragon Force Blade spinning in her grasp before being hurled like a javelin into Odahviing's exposed side, the impact punching a hole through scales and flesh, but not a severely fatal one.

Odahviing's form rises from the earth just as the Dragon Ice Blade swings through the air once more, releasing a surge of glacial winds that, while not even half as strong as the previous swing, still manages to lock the Dragon's mighty limbs in thick ice.

The final remnants of energy within the blade was released when Aurelia hurls it at Odahviing's open jaws, sealing them shut in a prison of dense ice.

Like all Dragons before him, Aurelia rarely struggled for long against them. Once she learned all of their tricks, then they were easy hunting.

Paarthurnax had described her as the perfect 'Dragon Hunter' for that very reason.

Her right hand stretches out, a Shout on her lips, ready to end the fight and claim another victory, but Odahviing clearly refused to go down without a final, true clash.

His wings flapped, and roaring gales sent her form flying away while they ripped apart his frozen prison, allowing him to take flight and rise high into the skies.

The hurricane howled and shuddered, lightning flashing and rumbling across the pitch black clouds, and at the very eye of the storm now lay the Dragon Sage, each flap of his wings causing the hurricane to shudder.

Her hands clenched into tight fists at the sight, "The people within Whiterun just achieved a thorough, valiant victory against near impossible odds." Her eyes narrowed, "That hurricane is an eyesore. They deserve to bask in the sunlight after such a battle."

Paarthurnax had told her not to use it, as it was too dangerous. She did it once, even used all the words but put barely any power in it.

Now, she'll do it again and unleash all of its strength without care.

"Nin-" To strike- "Vey-" To cut- "Luv!" To tear.

Her hands stretch out as Reality itself wails, the Dragon Blade that comes into existence being a simple mottled color.

Yet its very existence instantly became a threat to her and her surroundings.

Her hands wrapped around its handle, and her gauntlets were instantly torn to shred, her skin being torn apart by hundreds of cuts trying to erase her from existence itself.

Her forearms suffered the same fate, her blood raining down on the land being cut and torn and shredded into dust below.

Her Holy Magic flowed forth, countering the damage being done to her body so she could grip the blade freely, her gaze flicking up to the skies above.

Odahviing breathes in, and the hurricane stills. The howling winds that battered the valley and city suddenly going quiet.

Then he breathes them out. A gargantuan cyclone that could shred Whiterun apart is spewed forth- Only to disperse before it could fully form and reach its true size, and reveal its true might.

Aurelia breathes out and flicks her bare hands to her sides, sending a mental apology to Hircine for having ruined his armor so thoroughly that she doubted she could use it again now.

With a blink, she smiles when sunlight streams down from above.

The hurricane itself was cleaved in half and was swiftly dispersing into nothing, allowing the brilliant Sun to rain down upon the valley.

Together with a severely wounded Dragon Sage, his fall leaving a massive crater behind.

Aurelia approaches it with a relaxed pace despite the Cutting Shout having taken a lot out of her. It was taboo for a reason. All that power always comes at a cost.

A deep, weak and wheezing chuckle reaches her ears the moment she stops at the edge of the crater where the wounded Odahviing lays, a massive bleeding gash cleaved across his whole belly, nearly having cleaved the beast in half, but also close to having disemboweled him.

"How truly terrifying you are, Dovahkiin…" The Dragon Sage praises, weakly lifting his head to stare at her, "As the victor of this duel, it is your right to do with me as you see fit."

Aurelia's fists clench tightly once more, "Why were you stalling for time?" She demands, and the Dragon chuckles weakly once more.

"It is too late." The Dragon states, making her teeth grit, "The World-Eater has already engaged his target."

Dawnbreaker is drawn and held an inch away from Odahviing's pupil, "Who is it?" Aurelia demands as she flares her nostrils, a pit of fear and worry forming into her belly, "Who is his target?!"

"The Anomaly." Odahviing chuckles once more, confusing Aurelia, "He who sunders Fate with his mere existence. He who has ruined the proper flow of time."

Her hand trembles, yet the Dragon keeps speaking, "His existence is Wrong. It has made the World-Eater nervous… Afraid."

"So he took it upon himself to deal with the issue."

Aurelia couldn't wrap her head around it. He had to be talking about Leonidas, but… Was he truly this Anomaly?

Each time he spoke of home, it sounded like a land of fantasies, from mere stories. But yet she trusted him, for the fondness in his voice could not be faked.

Paarthurnax had shown interest in him, and spoke of Leonidas like he was a wonder.

'He who sunders Fate with his mere existence.'

Those words ring within her mind over and over… Until she kicks them out and glares at the downed Dragon before her.

"If something happens to him…" She starts, her voice a low growl, her grip over Dawnbreaker creaking until her knuckles popped loudly, "If I lose him…"

"I will personally make sure your kind will disappear off the face of Nirn once and for all."

There was no way she could reach Winterhold from here, even if she gave her all. But she was tired beyond belief and close to crashing.

She'd be more of a liability than assistance. So all she could do was pray to Arkay for Hildr and Leonidas' well-being.

Nothing was going to take Leonidas from her.

~~XXX~~

"Why yo' voice sound like you smoked five packs of cigars and then deep-throated a fat dick for a couple hours straight?"

Deinmaar's armor creaks as he slowly turns his head to stare down at the Undead Mage beside him.

Who, as if sensing his gaze, turned his skeletal frozen head to stare right back at him, "What? Tell me I'm wrong."

Deinmaar really couldn't. And he hated that… Just a tiny bit.

The World-Eater, for all of his non-existent composure, merely snarled and moved to pounce forward-

"I mean, it also sounds like he is making his voice deeper on purpose." Leonidas continues, raising a lone left arm and hand in Alduin's general direction, "Tryin' to sound cool and shit. You get what I mean?"

With a flex of his Magicka, he let it flow forth and releases a gargantuan beam of glacial, howling winds that swallowed Alduin whole, the sheer size of the beam making the gargantuan Dragon appear like an ant in comparison.

Deinmaar glanced at the beam of Frost and barely held back a wince. He wouldn't like being on the receiving end of that. Mainly because he was starting to hate the cold.

Specifically, the horrifying cold conjured by Leonidas.

"...I now can't get it out of my head." Still, he also barely holds back a snort at Leonidas' words.

His mood was all over the place after their recent battle, and Alduin's appearance just fueled Deinmaar's growing wrath and anger.

But Leonidas' presence just… It kept him centered. Focused. The Undead had a strange but captivating charisma to him.

"Oh, I am the World-Eater, beware of my might!" Said Undead mocks as his beam of Frost Magic comes to an end, his voice sounding way too deep and rumbling like the growl of a Sabertooth Tiger.

This time Deinmaar fails to hold back the snort that makes his whole massive form shake and tremble minutely.

Oh, and the World-Eater comes back into view, frozen solid. Not that it really did anything to the giant beast.

"Why are you like this?"

"You know, I get asked that question a lot." Leonidas points out as the ice prison around Alduin starts cracking, "Still, I got a laugh outta you!"

Reaching over, Leonidas pats Deinmaar's back with as much strength he could muster, "Don't hold back on my account, buddy. Go as wild as you need."

Deinmaar breathes in, then breathes out. The inferno of his wrath at having the reason behind all of his torment and greatest failure and mistake before him was… quelled by those words.

It turned into fuel. Fuel that warmed his body and brought back that unyielding might and spirit from times long gone.

"Thank you for this…" Deinmaar stopped himself before saying 'Leonidas', for it felt wrong to call the Undead by name. He was someone who risked death so that he could offer Deinmaar a hand and drag him out of the dark abyss he had been wallowing in for countless centuries.

So, the titan of a man straightens his shoulders and looks down at the Undead Mage, his mind set, "Thank you for this, brother." That was the proper way to call a man such as him.

Leonidas is faintly startled at Deinmaar's words, but a chuckle soon leaves his robed form. "No need to thank me, buddy." And that is when Alduin broke free from his prison with a roar of fury, his gargantuan form pouncing forward without wasting a second.

Immense claws dug through the earth like it was butter as the beast launched himself at Leonidas, his one and only target.

Yet, a wall of pure muscles and might slammed into the side of Alduin's skull before his jaws could even fully reach the relaxed robed Undead.

The sheer force behind the shoulder charge sent Alduin's skull flying to the side, and a wheeze sun left the beast when Leonidas flicks a lone finger skyward and conjures a rising spiky pillar of ice and had it slam straight into Alduin's guts with enough force to lift the Dragon off the ground.

Deinmaar did not stop, each of his steps shaking the earth as he charged at Alduin without fear, an unstoppable Juggernaut overflowing with violence and with a blade eager for blood.

Alduin slams onto the earth with a loud crash, and Deinmaar pounces with a roar flowing out of his lips, his whole body turning as he swings his greatsword with both hands and every ounce of might he had at his disposal.

Alduin's scales do not give in from the blow, but the beast roars in anger thorough the deafening shock-wave that ripples forth, all that power being concentrated into a destructive wave of pure force and death that carved a ravine into the ocean floor.

The ocean waters, once having been kept at bay by Alduin's mere existence and aura alone, now surged back to fill the cavity left behind.

A frozen chain wraps around Deinmaar's waists, dragging him onto a rising pillar of ice that brings them high above the surging and crashing waters.

The Dragon Priest closes his eyes, unable to watch the graveyard of Dragon Priest be destroyed further and buried beneath the ocean forever.

Deep within, he prays for the forgiveness of his comrades. Of his allies and friends. But he knows that now he must push forth, as duty calls him once more.

"You gonna be alright?" Leonidas asks, having clearly caught his gaze and faint distress.

Beneath his armor, Deinmaar smiles as he nods lightly, "I will be."

Leonidas nods, the ice chain he had used to yank Deinmaar crumbling to powder as he turns his gaze towards the churning ocean that had swallowed the World-Eater whole.

Then the waters parted, and Leonidas swiftly reacted, conjuring a gargantuan Ward just in time to stop the concentrated beam of flames aimed at them.

The waters boiled around them, the Ward cracking more and more as the beam of it remained locked in a single spot, spilling white-hot flames in all directions together with powerful raging winds.

"Brother!" Deinmaar calls out as the World Eater rises above the boiling and steaming waters, but the Dragon wasn't the source of the Dragon Priest's distress, "The after-shocks-!"

Turning his head, Leonidas looks towards Winterhold, where the blasts of wind and the surging waves of the ocean kept slamming at the cliff below Winterhold, tearing into it over and over.

One nasty hit, and a good portion of the city would collapse into the waters below.

Leonidas's gaze wanders towards the College, where he knew someone precious to him was taking shelter.

The Wards of the College could keep it safe from the waves. It should. It has to.

The mere thought of something happening to Hildr because of his carelessness made something within Leonidas just… snap.

The green flames within his eye-sockets, for but a moment that went unseen by anyone other than a certain Mad Star, flickered into a malevolent, twisted dark purple color.

Alduin's roar choked short as the mighty beast felt as if a meteorite the size of a mountain slammed into his body, cracking scales and rupturing flesh.

His form, once flying in the air above the water, was now but a dot in the distance, the sheer force and speed and pure power behind the Spell that slammed into Alduin having split the ocean all the way to the horizon.

Deinmaar flinches back, having been unable to see what Leonidas had done. He had caught sight of an Original Rune coming into existence… One the size of a mountain, before Alduin just… disappeared.

"Now…" The Undead sighed and rolled his neck, the usual cheer in his voice completely gone, "Ready to body-slam that bitch?"

Now, Deinmaar wasn't a man that would fall to the lure of something that sounded downright lovely… But this time he made an exception. Just this time.

"Do you even have to ask?"

"Right, stupid question." Then, Leonidas turns to fully face me, "Throw me at the fucker."

Deinmaar didn't even need to think twice and merely acted instantly as Leonidas offered him an arm encased in frozen armor. His own massive hand clasped around Leonidas' wrist before the titan of a man whirled around.

Then hurled Leonidas towards the direction where Alduin disappeared, a distant 'Wheeee~!' being heard through the sonic-boom unleashed by Leonidas' take off.

Then, the ice platform beneath Deinmaar's feet was pulverized as he jumped, disappearing into the distance himself.

Far over the horizon, Alduin's titanic form was bouncing on water like a pebble thrown with the right amount of speed and at the right angle, each impact causing huge waves to surge from the surface of the water.

The impacts disoriented the beast more and more, stopping the World-Eater from effectively regaining any form of balance, the sheer pain from what had initially sent him flying having left his mind blank.

Never before did the World-Eater experience such pain. He always stood at the peak in pure might. None could contend or stand against him, even those accursed twins.

So now this weakness of his vexed him. It vexed him greatly. And it also made him afraid.

His wings fold, then his tail lashes out, displacing the air with the sheer force of the whip-like strike, destroying the surface of the water and allowing him to just smash into the frigid ocean and not bounce upon yet again.

A growls flows past his jaws as he rises out of the surface, the waters boiling and steaming against his scales as his gargantuan wings spread, ready to drag him back into the skies, his domain-

Only for him to falter when a brilliant light filled the skies, and Alduin's red eyes widened at the sight of the colossal dark blue Original Rune burning itself into the very Heavens above.

Then, that hateful voice of the Anomaly roared forth, a lone Shout that caused the air to tremble, "QO!"

The world flashes black and white, and Alduin has no time to react as pillar the size of an island smashes down upon him.

The skies and the ocean evaporated as the pillar of lightning stabs into the very bowels of the planet, its thunderous howls covering the loud roars of pain from the World-Eater.

Lightning, the bane of all Magicka. The more Magicka one has inside their bodies, the more it will hurt when they are struck by Lightning Magic.

They'll feel as if their very essence is being gouged out of their bodies in the most brutal and painful way possible. Due to this, it was considered the most painful and horrendous way to torture someone, especially during wars.

And now the World-Eater himself, he who never experienced pain before for he had no equal, was experiencing such pain as the lightning from Vasavi Shakti flowed into him.

Even in this weakened state of his, he still had enormous Magicka reserves, even if they go unused.

The humiliation, the weakness forced upon him, the pain… The roar of pain became one of pure fury, and a powerful blast erupts from his jaws, making the Heavens wail as the skies are twisted.

A hurricane dozens of times worse than the one that stood above Helgen the day it was wiped off the maps came into existence, lightning scattered across the black clouds like ants escaping their destroyed nest, and meteors the size of buildings were spewed forth.

It was a scene straight out of the Apocalypse itself, and the sheer power released by the activation of Alduin's favorite and mastered shout eradicated the lightning pillar, freeing him from that horrifying pain that still left his limbs aching.

In response to him taking charge of the skies, a wave of glacial winds spread forth in all directions, freezing the ocean down to the very bottom.

"Super Hero Landing-!" Leonidas then smashed nearly a dozen feet deep into the frozen ocean, bringing the World-Eater to a pause.

A short lived pause, unfortunately, as the very next second a massive wall of muscles bodily slammed into Alduin's head, smashing him into the frozen landscape below.

"Deinmaar!" Alduin roars, stabilizing himself and slamming his claws into the dense ice below, a snarl upon his jaws, "You traitorous filth!"

Deinmaar slams into the ice soon after the impact against Alduin's skull, his massive form stabilizing near-instantly as he twirls his enormous blade with ease. "You ruined my dream." The Atmoran spits out, "So it was only right that I ruined your pathetic purpose."

Alduin growls and claws at the ice below, "Do you truly believe you accomplished anything?" A cruel, deep chuckle rumbles out of Alduin's steaming jaws, "You simply delayed the inevitable. I will lay waste upon these lands, regain my might, and feast upon this very planet!"

Deinmaar just shakes his head mockingly, "The only thing you will feast upon is my blade."

The World-Eater pounces, giant claw stabbing towards the titan of a man who merely spins out of the way and reaches over to rest his hand on Alduin's arm.

Clawed gauntlet fingers bend, then stab through scales and flesh alike as Deinmaar squeezes, then pulls, yanking and slamming Alduin into the ice below with laughable ease. "This weakness of yours irks me. It feels like I am bullying a child." Deinmaar sneers, then grunts and spins around.

Alduin is lifted like he weights nothing, then is hurled across the frozen landscape, smashing painfully into the jagged pillar of ice that used to be waves.

With a snarl of fury, Alduin jumps and takes momentary flight before pouncing upon Deinmaar, steaming jaws open to bite down on the giant of a man.

Who, instead of dodging, merely stabs his greatsword into the ice beside him before spreading his arms to welcome the challenge.

Breathing in, Deinmaar leans forward and reaches out with his hands as Alduin crashes into him, left hand stopped his upper jaw and right hand stopping the lower one.

Then, he yanks them both down, lowering Alduin's head and freeing his hands, which rise far above him and cup together before smashing down upon the World-Eater's skull like a meteorite, the horrifying blow smashing the Dragon's head into the ice below.

Not done yet, Deinmaar stomps forward and hugs Alduin's bent neck, and his arms then squeeze as he grabs a good hold of the stunned beast before lifting.

With a roar of fury and exertion, Deinmaar bends his back and lifts the gargantuan Dragon into the air… Before suplexing him into the frozen landscape with enough force the shatter it for miles.

With a pant and spin, Deinmaar stumbles and rises back to his feet upon the uneven surface at the very edge of the crater left behind by Alduin's body, his blade flying back into his grasp.

Then something smashes into the ground beside him with an 'Oof!', and turning his head, Deinmaar relaxes when he notices that it was just Leonidas, now sprawled on the ground starfish style.

A moment of quiet falls between the two as Leonidas seems to process what he had just witnessed.

"Did you just suplex the absolute shit out of the World-Eater?"

Deinmaar shrugs despite his desire to laugh. It was indeed very, very satisfying.

"That was the most beautiful thing I've ever witnessed…" Leonidas sighs out, then grabs the offered hand as Deinmaar helps him back on his feet.

And that is when the World-Eater resurfaces, roaring in fury and releasing immense waves of heat-

"Ay man, we hear you." Leonidas sniffs, and Alduin's jaws click shut, baleful red eyes glowering down at the Undead Mage, "Roaring doesn't make you cool, ya know?"

Alduin growls, and steam billows out of his tightly clenched jaws.

Leonidas, of course, latches onto that show of anger, "Aw, is the big scawy dwagon mad? Gonna cwy to daddy?" Deinmaar snorts, then barely holds back the loud bark of laughter that threatens to spill out of his lips, "Don't worry, you're catching this fade first, then yo' bitch-ass daddy is next."

And then the giant Atmoran pauses. Why does Leonidas want to fight Akatosh-?

A giant claw smashes down on Leonidas, and a pillar of frost smashes into Alduin's guts once more.

Deinmaar hacks his blade down on Alduin's claw, shattering scales and barely drawing as he frees the now the huge armored form of Leonidas, who had shrugged off the blow with ease.

"Think we are far enough away to cut loose?" Leonidas questions Deinmaar, who bares his teeth beneath his helmet in a savage and twisted grin.

"More than enough." With a flex of his will, plasma washes forth in tidal waves, cloaking his form in its brilliant heated form.

And despite the heat rising to horrifying levels, a dense frozen mist covers the frozen landscape, causing the World-Eater to shudder from the cold, much to his horror.

"I have a plan." Leonidas states, and Deinmaar nods.

"I'll follow."

No more words were needed, and pillars of ice sprouted from below and curved through the air, smashing into Alduin's left side faster than he could blink.

His form is tossed to the rapidly melting ground, and frozen chains soon bound his form down, barely flinching or cracking from the Dragon's constant struggles.

With a bellow of might, Deinmaar's flaming form crashes down towards Alduin's defenseless neck, his blade hacking down with every ounce of hate and anger within his body.

Scales and flesh part, but despite the force of the impact that shakes the land, the blade barely cuts a few inches deep into the Dragon's tough flesh.

But that was enough for Leonidas, who then nodded towards Deinmaar. It showed that Alduin could be wounded and could bleed.

But they didn't know if he could be slain by anyone other than the Dragonborn.

So, Deinmaar jumps back, right beside Leonidas, as Alduin trashes free from his bindings and snarls towards them- The Dragon pauses when his targets are not where they were a moment prior.

Instead, his sight is filled with an enormous shaking pillar of ice.

"Bet you can't catch us, bitch!" Alduin looks up at that holler, and growls as he watches the Anomaly wave mockingly down at him as the pillar he was standing on kept rising towards the skies.

Instead of doing the smart thing and smashing the pillar apart, Alduin instead snarls and pounces upon it, then starts climbing it like an agile cat, climbing dozens of meters with each leap.

Leaning back, Leonidas starts at seeing his plan working, "We have one chance at this." He states softly, turning his head towards Deinmaar, "His idiocy has given us a chance to either stop this now, or buy us a lot of time."

"Think we can kill him?" Deinmaar questions, glancing down over the edge of the still rising pillar to look at the approaching, snarling Dragon.

Leonidas sighs and shakes his head, "I don't know, honestly." He crosses his arms encased in ice armor with a low hum, "But I know we can hurt him, and make him afraid."

Deinmaar considers those words for a short few seconds before nodding, "Let us hurt him. If we see a chance to kill him, then we pounce upon it." They share a nod of agreement on that.

"One blow, with all we got." Leonidas offers, "You warmed up enough for that?"

Deinmaar chuckles, "I will need some time. It has been far too long since I gave my all in a battle, after all."

"I'll buy us the time we need, then." With that, Leonidas walks to the edge of the pillar and stares down, the immense structure of ice having long since pierced through the cloud layer.

In fact, the sky was starting to grow dark, showing that they had reached the lower troposphere.

Behind Leonidas, Deinmaar brandished his blade and focused all of his flames and roaring plasma upon its edge. Ancient runes lit up along the sword and armor, but Leonidas did not focus on that and simply flicked his wrist.

Jagged spikes form and stab out from the gargantuan pillar rising towards the Heavens, the sudden attack smashing Alduin off the pillar, forcing him to flap his wings to remain in flight and not loose too much ground-

Baleful red eyes widen when stars shine in the skies above. Dozens, then hundreds, then thousands-

And then they all rain down with ear-deafening cracks of air exploding, each blow staggering the titan of a Dragon but not hurting that much.

But when hundreds smash into his far each second, the pain builds up, and Alduin's roars in annoyance as he is pushed back, stopped from approaching his damnable target.

Leonidas kept his left hand aimed towards Alduin while the other one rose towards the darkening skies above.

Inwardly, he reminds himself to do something nice for Kara for having taught him the Original Runes. They were an immense boon, one that he really needed right now.

The brilliant Original Rune of his go-to Spell flares into existence within his palm, then Leonidas lets all of his Magicka flow into it.

It swells, growing bigger at an immense rate while weaker Draconian Howls keep raining down upon Alduin form below, stalling the beast for the much needed time.

A dozen more Original Runes take shape around the enormous still growing one, then ten more form around each of the new ones, then ten more around each of them.

Leonidas breathes in, feeling his reserves just sink even with how immense they are. But he knew that he needed more.

So he didn't bother holding back. Even if he dried up his reserves, they'd refill in no time.

"I am ready, brother." Leonidas turns his head to regard Deinmaar, with his hands now gripping the glowing white-hot greatsword. "On your go."

Leonidas nods and turns his gaze skyward, where the gargantuan Original Rune and its smaller connected ones spread across the skies for what must've been miles, surprising him greatly.

He didn't know he had that much Magicka.

Then, with a flicker of his will, it shrank down and appeared at the tip of his index finger. "Alright, let's fuck him up."

Down below, Alduin growls and narrows his eyes when the rain of Spells hindering his flight suddenly came at an end, but he did not dare waste more time and surged skyward as fast as he could, drawing closer and closer to the top until, finally, his target and the traitor peeked over the edge of the frozen pillar.

He bares his jaw at the sight, the constant humiliation forced upon him having ground away the pride of his that demanded a fair challenge against the Anomaly, so that he could do away with that stain properly.

But now, Alduin did not care anymore. So much so that the moment his gaze landed upon the Anomaly, his mind was made.

He was going to use that Forbidden Shout. The Soul Tear Shout.

It was hated and greatly feared for the mere fact that it erased a Soul. It could permanently kill a Dragon, and Dragons hated the existence of such a Shout that could easily be turned against them.

And now, with his hated target before him, Alduin did not hold back. He was the World-Eater, rules were never meant to bind him.

So his jaws part open, pure hateful glee shines within his eyes from his assured victory as he speaks, "Rii-Vaaz-Zol-!"

A series of loud, blaring sounds make Alduin pause and blink.

Where was he…? Where did the Anomaly go?

All around him were towering structures of stone, with some having strange signs and words upon them.

Far up in the clear sky, he could see strange metallic birds streaking past.

Down below, strange creatures of metals on wheels released those blaring sounds that grated upon his ears as they moved along. Each a different color or shape and marked with strange words and numbers.

What is this place?

Then, right below him was a literal sea of people, all walking and wearing strange clothes, some talking to small rocks within their hands.

The World-Eater was greatly confused, but just as he was about to lash out, he feels his gaze be dragged back towards the moving sea of people.

His baleful red eyes land upon the only person not moving within the crowd, a dark blue hood covering their head.

Slowly, the figure of the woman turns, head head rising and turning so to stare straight at Alduin, whose eyes widen in recognition.

The dark haired woman holding a bag of groceries glares his way.

                                       "His Soul is not something the likes of you can touch."

Her voice carried forth with an authority only a Divine holds, and his scales cracked beneath that unquestionable might.

And Alduin suddenly understood the Anomaly.

He understood why Time was thrown in disarray due to his mere presence.

He understood why Fate itself now was uncertain due to him.

He understood how the Anomaly came to be.

                                                        "Become from this Realm, filth."

He was the Champion of Fate.

The realization numbs the Dragon… Before his whole form started shaking.

And the World-Eater raged.

                                                        "ITHELIAAAAAAAAA-!"

For even Fate itself now stands against him in the form of her Champion.

For even Time itself, the Domain of his Father, was thrown into disarray due to the Anomaly.

For even his brethren now doubted him for his lacking strength.

Everything stood against the World-Eater, and he hated it.

So he raged.

Until his consciousness was wrenched back into the Dream with a gasp.

A blade falls-

The World-Eater's eyes widen-

A giant, severed limb spins through the air-

And a massive hole is punched straight through his chest.

A.N. Apologies on the wait for this chapter!

Writing action back to back is quite tiring.

Especially writing fights against giant beasts. Those are very tiring to do, as I have discovered.

Anyway, hope y'all haven't missed this fic too much!

But in case ya did, I left quite a few secrets in this chapter for y'all to find and point out in the reviews!

Some are easy to find, some are next to impossible!

Hope y'all enjoy and have enjoyed it so far!

Glad to be back!

Toodles!

I, Draugr Chapter 36

To Dragons, the mortal races always appeared like puny ants.

Weak, needing to be in large groups in order to survive, and putting reason before strength.

Dragons disliked that. They did whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted, however they wanted.

Might makes right. That was, is, and will always be their belief.

Until something comes and ruthlessly shatters it.

The many Dragons that plummeted from the skies of Whiterun and crashed down like scaled meteors had been felled during the Dragon War of the Merethic Era.

Many were felled due to mortals gathering in large groups to bring them down in a mighty battle.

Others… Others experienced the terror of that accursed Shout.

Originally created to even the field and force Dragons to land, it was then morphed and changed into a weapon of slaughter meant to be wielded against Dragonkind, and Dragonkind only.

One master of the Voice after another learned that Shout, and filled it with their Rage. With their Hate. With their Disgust.

All of their negative feelings towards Dragonkind were poured within these three words, which only a mortal could ever speak.

Some Dragons fell after they experienced the initial version of the Shout.

Others fell while being ripped apart by the effects of Dragonrend. A Shout that weaponizes the Hate and Rage of the mortals enslaved by Dragons, of the mortals that watched their own brothers and sisters be used as snacks or as mere tools for those beasts.

The creation of this Shout made the Dragons cower, and a great many of them experienced terror for the first time in their immortal lives.

And now, they were experiencing it once more. Some died in utter agony before even crashing down within Whiterun, while others slowly stood and found themselves turned into sheep.

Sheep being gazed at by countless hungry wolves. Wolves hungry for blood and revenge.

The sound of a church bell ringing echoes across the streets of Whiterun, a brilliant glow erupting high in the skies as restorative green light washes down below, enveloping the whole city.

Those on the verge of death are back to full health in a span of seconds, feeling stronger and better than ever before.

While those with their eyes on the fallen Dragons grasp the closest weapon within reach before pouncing forward, no matter if they were a warrior, a young boy, a wife or even a cook.

They all grasped the closest weapon, roared out their anger at the destruction of their homes, and lashed out at the source of all of the destruction and death surrounding them.

The Dragons were like flies that fell into a very active anthill, full of the very same ants they looked down upon.

The very same ants that despite the sheer size and power difference between them still bared their teeth and brandished their weapons without fear, welcoming death with a grin on their faces.

Because even after losing a war to these very same ants, the Dragons still failed to grasp the sheer might mortals can bring out when they stand united.

The streets were in chaos, but this was a chaos the people loved. A chaos of battle that made their blood boil, that did not have them cowering away from another Dragon sweeping down from the skies to breathe out fire instead of battling them on the ground.

Arrows punched through scales, kitchen knives parted flesh and muscles, daggers punctured holes and blades hacked the flailing, roaring beasts apart.

The Dragons struggled and roared. The Nords roared and laughed.

And within the street, a Court Mage found himself out of place. He wasn't meant for battles on the front-lines, or direct confrontations.

Farengar watches the mighty beast flail, struggling to drive off the Dragon Knight hacking it apart and sustaining no injuries in the process. Beneath the light of that Master Class Scroll, Terra Santa, all within Whiterun were basically immortals at the moment.

Farengar would have felt pained at using such an expensive Scroll… If he didn't have a chest filled with nearly a hundred more, a message of 'Use these bitches, don't be stingy!' attached to said chest.

Sticking to his cover, Farengar watches the battle carefully, trying and hoping for any sort of opening, anything he could do to further assist the Dragon Knights in taking down the beast.

He was a master of Illusion and Fire Magic, hence his 'Secret-Fire' moniker due to him making his flames invisible through Illusion Magic.

But invisible flames wouldn't really be useful when they could harm his very allies… If only he had a way to be useful- Farengar blinks when the Dragon roars and turns, leaving its back to Farengar… And the Court Mage's eyes slowly trail towards a certain spot.

Stories of what Leonidas did to the Dragon before Whiterun many months ago ring across his mind.

"Oh yeah, stuck his whole arm up that beast's ass and then blew it right up with Magic. Blood all over that wonderful bastard. Never wanted to offer a man a mug of mead more than I did that day."

"-And then he just walks up, brings his whole arm back, then punches it straight in that asshole! The Dragon locks up, then slowly looks back in fear. That once proud beast was trembling, I swear. And then its guts were all over the place. Mainly on the wizard, but by the Divines… That was one way to bring it down…"

"Never seen a Mage willingly put themselves in harm's way, and then pull of something so insane yet so cool at the same time. Magic ain't that bad, after all."

Before he could even think twice about it, Farengar already finds himself pouncing forward, left arm drawn all the way back.

The dragon's enormous tail rises up, and Farengar punches his whole arm straight in that defenseless asshole.

The Dragon locks up, and Farengar grins like a man possessed before letting loose.

Flames wash forth directly inside the beast in immense quantities, soon overflowing out of that scorched hole and from the beast's own jaws as it twitches and struggles before slowly falling limp.

Farengar draws back, eyes wide at the easy kill of a mighty and powerful beast. Weakened and distracted, but still powerful.

"Damn, there's another one…" He hears one of the Dragon Knight mutter aloud before Farengar just laughs, an insane cackle of ecstasy.

Manic eyes flick towards the now nervous Dragon Knights, "Bring me to the next Dragon!" Farengar demands, eager for more blood, and finally understanding why Leonidas went for the ass!

He'll never forget this exhilarating rush!

"You heard the Mage, boys! Let's go!"

Farengar ended up humiliating three more Dragons after that.

Meanwhile, the main square before the massive Jorrvaskr lay in ruin. Three enormous Dragons clashed within, brutally tearing at each other in a contest of pure physical might.

A colossal claw slam a white Dragon into the earth with enough force to shake the surrounding blocks, the immense form of Julspaan towering over the much smaller Dragon with a sneer upon his scaled jaws.

"This is the might you bring when battling mortals, brother?" Enormous claws flex, sharp nails puncturing through white scales and drawing blood, the ground beneath wheezing out a breath as it lay there powerless, "They won once before, do you truly believe this time will be different?"

"Betrayer!" Julspaan drifts his gaze to a scarlet Dragon, much bigger than the white one, and radiating immense heat, "Had we not lost our main force due to betrayal, the war would have been won!" The scarlet Dragon hisses out, embers flicking out around its jaws.

Julspaan stares down at his brethren, "The main force of mortals, yes." The scarlet Dragon flinches, and Julspaan sneers, "How truly pathetic of you, brother, to make excuses to hide your own weakness."

The scarlet Dragon roars, the heat radiating from it intensifying at it pounces across the square to crash into Julspaan. The titanic Dragon merely watches the beast draws close, but a Shout of "FUS-RO-DAH!" Rends the air, crashing into the scarlet beast and sending it hurling across the square with ease.

Lowering his gaze, Julspaan watches a bearded man stride forward, blade in hand, and man garbed in blue flanking his side. The man returns the gaze and narrows his eyes, "You stand with us, beast?"

With a nod, Julspaan softens his gaze, "I have had enough of my brothers leading such a senseless slaughter." Those words affected Ulfric deeply, the grip over his sword faltering momentarily.

But he could push those thoughts until later. For now, people needed his strength. "Then may your name be sang in all the taverns across Skyrim, and within the halls of Sovngarde."

Julspaan laughs, his claw rising then crashing down, claiming the life of the white Dragon and sending blood flying everywhere, "A Dragon's name being sang in the halls of Sovngarde? That would be a first!"

His wings unfold, spreading wide as he gazes at the standing scarlet Dragon, now flanked by an injured yet furious metallic Dragon coming from the lower parts of the city.

With a bellow of his own, Ulfric was the first to lead the charge, the two opposing Dragons roaring in answer and pouncing forward, ready to slaughter their traitorous brother and the mortals fighting alongside him.

In another area of the city, Aela slowly comes to, blinking herself awake due to someone shaking her. A rough, gauntlet clad hand draws back, silver-white hair filling her vision for a second, yet long enough to make the red haired woman jolt in place. "Aurelia!"

Aurelia smiles despite the seriousness and anger in her eyes, her helmet off and laying in one of her hands, "Aela… Where is Gretel?"

Aela blinks, worry instantly gnawing at her insides, and she looks around instantly, ready to rise on her feet- Then she instantly slumps back down with a sigh of relief. "Over to the Dragon's corpse… By Hircine is she a handful…"

Aurelia stands, turning her gaze towards the massive Dragon laying prone over a series of crumbled buildings. The mighty beast was torn apart, his blood creating a massive pool right beneath it.

He looked like he had been bitten and torn to death, with several chunks of flesh missing, his own tail being severed, and one of the hind legs being gone. Together with a wing.

There were also dozens of arrows stabbed within the corpse, and Aurelia draws closer without fear, "Gretel?" She calls out, worry filling her voice, her eyes seeking that familiar head of red hair.

"'Relia?!" An excited cry reaches her ears a second later, flooding Aurelia with relief as she steps into the Dragon's pool of blood, "Wait- No! 'Relia, don't come here-" The Dragon pulses, and soon its flesh starts fading away as Aurelia devours his Soul.

"Fuck!" Stepping around the corpse and near the belly area, Aurelia finds Gretel, sitting in a pool of blood, and drenched in it from head to toe. "'Relia! I was eating that!"

Gretel pouts, pointing a small finger towards the torn open Dragon belly, now an empty cavity with nothing to offer.

Aurelia stares at the sight for a few seconds before sighing deeply, "You shouldn't be eating this, you know?"

"It's very yummy though!" Aurelia sighs again, a fond smile on her face as she picks up the young girl smeared in blood, who swiftly proceeds to hug her tightly, "I missed you so much, 'Relia!"

The Dragonborn giggles, hugging the child tightly and giving her a happy twirly that earned a peal of adorable laughter from Gretel, the sound soothing all of Aurelia's worries and fears, "Did you do this?"

Gretel nods, smug grin on her childish face covered in blood, "Yeah!" Sniffing, she turns to glare at the Dragon, "This fat bitch landed on the house! Right on the fucking kitchen!"

"And so you decided to… eat him?"

"I first wanted to beat the fuck outta him… But using that form makes me very hungry, so eh…" Gretel shrugs, "At least I can control it as long as I eat and taste blood. Big Sis' form is so much stronger though, so she is just all angry and feral."

Putting that aside, Aurelia brings Gretel away, holding her close as the sounds of battle in the distance remain intense, but some start to fade away.

"I miss Big Sis and Leo…" Gretel muses softly, leaning into Aurelia's hug to seek comfort.

Gently and warmly, Aurelia look down at the child in her arms, "Once everything here is settled and calm… We'll go to them, okay?" Gretel's eyes widen momentarily before a squeal of happiness leaves her, her hug growing ten times stronger as she kicks her feet in the air.

Aurelia laughs, then slowly crouches down to put Gretel down, "Go with Aela and find a place to hide, okay? I'll be back soon." She promises, patting Gretel's head, her hair also caked in blood.

The young girl blinks softly, "You going out to hunt?" Aurelia smiles warmly yet sharply, and Gretel grins before nodding and rushing back towards the tired Aela.

Watching them go, Aurelia lets the smile slip off her face before she places her helmet back on.

Snowflakes slowly enter her vision, and she draws Dawnbreaker without hesitation.

The skies had suddenly darkened, a gargantuan whirlpool rumbling in the clouds above, raining down icy winds with a downpour of snowflakes.

The whirlpool lay right above Whiterun, the eye of the storm gazing down upon the city with an intensity that made Aurelia nervous, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end.

This was a Sage, Aurelia realizes. Among the mightiest of Dragons, those that had mastered their chosen words, and are capable of unleashing their might even without speaking them.

Aurelia breathes in and bends law, immense power flowing through her limbs and veins. The physical might of more than a hundred Dragons layered together, cracking the stone road below her feet.

Then pulverizing it as she launches herself skyward, straight towards the outside of Whiterun.

A quick look below makes her grin, noticing that among the dozens of Dragons that had crashed down into the city, only five remain.

It went to show how they could only hold an advantage while fighting high in the sky and out of reach, but once on the ground? The Dragons were the real ants.

Her gaze then flicks towards the valley beyond the walls, and her lips part just as she feels the beast within the clouds lock fully onto her.

"Wuld-Nah-Kest!" A sonic-boom echoes across the skies as her form is hurled across the land, another and much louder sonic-boom exploding into existence from the Heavens above as the Dragon within the storm chases after her.

The very gargantuan hurricane crashes down with the beast, and Aurelia crashes into the earth with glowing blade already in hand, feet digging trenches through the earth as she flips around to meet the incoming blow with all of her might.

Both hands grip Dawnbreaker's handle and draw the blade back as she stomps forward, a gargantuan claw crashing into view with the howl of the storm above wreathed around it.

The collision ruptures the earth, causing it sink but blast skyward, like the ripple caused by a rock falling into water.

Earthquakes shake the valley, with deafening metallic clashes ringing out from within the rising and growing cloud of dust and debris. The radiance of Dawnbreaker shined brightly through the cloud, lighting up the battling figures of mortal and beast.

Aurelia clicked her tongue, arms unbearably numb after the several clashes against those massive sharp claws. Despite his size, the Dragon was nimble and quick, nothing like the others she has fought so far.

But what annoyed her further was the cloud of dust covering her vision, stopping her from fully laying her eyes on her opponent so to better keep track of him.

"Su-Grah-Dun." She whispers, unleashing a pulse of energy around her body as wisps of ethereal energy start cloaking her arms, making her feel much better.

It was likely the same Shout the Dragon fighting against her was using, so she had to even the playing field and slowly gain an advantage.

Another piercing howl of winds rends the air, forcing her to duck to dodge the barely visible blade of wind that tried to decapitate her while cleaving the cloud of dust apart.

"Laas-Yah-Nir." Another whisper beneath her breath, and finally she could see her target, his glowing outline pouncing towards her with claws wrapped in roaring gales.

This time, she doesn't dodge. Instead, she dives towards her target, "Nin-Vey-Luv!" Dawnbreaker glimmers, then screams through the air as she swings her weapon.

It was a dangerous gamble on her part, using a Shout she had barely mastered. The Cutting Shout, a series of Words meant to Cut.

Paarthurnax had been reluctant in teaching her this Shout, as it can harm her too if she is careless. It is a Shout created by a powerful and very feared Great Sage among Dragons.

The reason it is feared is because it cuts through anything, without fail. No matter how strong a barrier is, the Shout cuts it.

Her blade screams through the air, and the once mighty scales that deflected her blows part beneath the enhanced sharpness, the barest minimum she could bring out with this Shout while being careful.

Blood splashes through the air, and the sheer force behind her blow displaces the dust cloud just as nimble Dragon pounces away.

Aurelia blows air through her nostrils and flips around, finally laying her eyes on her opponent.

Slightly bigger than Paarthurnax, with wine-red scales and a royal blue hue to his wings. His scales stood out with small spikes and looked extremely polished and sharp, making his body glint in the light.

The Dragon tested his injured claw, his blood dripping on the ruined earth below, his limb having been nearly severed in half by her slash. It was a deep wound, but the beast did not seem to care much. "Impressive, Dovahkiin."

The Dragon's direct praise surprises Aurelia. She detected no hostility from the Dragon before her, reminding her of another Dragon. The proud Yolosqah she had fought long ago. Her second Dragon, in fact.

"You Thu'um has grown much in such a short while. Truly marvelous." Standing tall, the reddish Dragon stares down at her in respect, "If only mine brothers train as hard as you have…"

Aurelia rolls the blade in her hands as the Dragon sighs deeply, "Here to prove your might, or what?" She questions, still on guard against the Dragon that is most definitely a Sage.

He did not utter a Word, yet the air felt cold, and winds had started picking up. The hurricane above is just waiting to be unleashed on the valley below.

The Dragon chuckles, amused by Aurelia's questions, "When a Dragon fights, it is always a test of might." Shaking his wings, the Dragon lowers his head to better stare at Aurelia, "And I always enjoyed battling mortals. I was felled by one in the Merethic Era."

"His Voice did not best mine, but his body did." One claws rises, sharp nails sliding across a certain spot on his belly. "Alas, I do not bear the scar of the wound that took my life back then. Truly vexatious."

Aurelia gulps as she keeps her gaze on the Dragon before her. Something was wrong. Her senses kept screaming at her that something was wrong.

And she trusted them.

"You are stalling for time." The Dragon chuckles, and Aurelia's eyes narrow, "Why?"

Baring his fangs, the Dragon Sage flexes his claws into the earth below, "If you seek answers, then you must best me in battle. Do so, and I shall tell you everything."

Dawnbreaker is tossed into her left hand, freeing her right hand, "Yol-Toor-Shul!" Her fingers curl and clench around the incandescent and brilliant Sun Dragon Blade, the air around her warping and the ground melting from its mere presence.

The Dragon Sage spreads his wings and growls in challenge, "My name is Odahviing, Dovahkiin." The skies above rumble, and piercing gales start to shroud Odahviing's form once more, "But mine kin also call me the Sage of Storms."

His wings flap.

And the very Heavens come crashing down upon her.

~~XXX~~

He was found upon the frozen shores of the Dragon Capital of Bromjunaar, having somehow survived a ship wreck and a fall into glacial waters.

He was up and moving by the second day, and found himself in a strange land.

As a young boy, he was as tall as fully grown men, and boasted physical might greater than a dozen well-trained warriors.

Many Dragons had seen his strength and coveted it, wishing to make him their servant. A weapon for them to wield and show off against each other, like a toy.

But he was never swayed. He simply lived as an errand boy within the city for a full year before his life changed on one fateful day.

An elderly man had angered a Dragon by accident, a simple mistake due to old age blown out of proportions by the pride and arrogance of Dragons.

Said Dragon had been close to eating or roasting the old man alive before a soldier stepped forward, standing before the elderly man to shield him from the wrath of the Dragon.

The soldier proclaimed he couldn't stand by and watch such injustice go by. He demanded fairness and Justice, and for the Dragon to not be guided and blinded by his arrogance.

Those words stirred something within the young Atmoran boy. The happiness within the old man's eyes at seeing someone stand up for him, yet also the fear for their lives.

And the courage within the soldier to stand unfazed before an irate Dragon to protect another.

In his anger, the Dragon ate the soldier, and that was when the young Atmoran boy found his duty.

He had rushed forward, grabbed the blade that had fallen from the bisected corpse of the soldier, and wielded it to tear the Dragon apart.

His action, done to protect others from the wrath of an arrogant Dragon, was blasphemy for those that openly worshiped out of fear.

For they feared the wrath and revenge from the Dragons, they cursed him. They called the Dragon Guards upon him.

He left them all broken and beaten, barely sustaining any injuries in the ensuing scuffles that ended only when a Dragon Priest personally took action.

Bound and beaten, the boy was dragged within the temple to be judged for his sins.

Execution, work within the mines, used to test dangerous alchemical potions or brought back as a powerful Undead under their rule. Those were the suggested courses of actions the countless Dragon Priests mulled over.

Until the one wearing the Mask with tusks stepped within the temple.

Deinmaar. That was the name that was gifted to him. It means Keeper, or Guardian. He preferred the latter.

Guardian of the people, of the weak, of those who couldn't protect themselves. He upheld justice, and punished any that overstepped their boundaries, be they mortals or Dragons.

He simply wanted coexistence. For mortals and Dragons to stand together, not as masters and slaves, but as companions. As friends.

But that was a mere silly dream.

His head recoils back, and a grunt soon leaves his lips as a fist crashes into his stomach, lifting him off the ground.

The Undead Mage turned into a frozen Juggernaut presses the advantage, an unstoppable wall of violence that did not flinch from Deinmaar's own mighty blows.

"Cat got your tongue!?" The Undead Mage goads, each of his blows releasing immense shock-waves that further ruined the old storage room they were in. "Talk to me, Deinmaar!"

The towering Atmoran ducks beneath a wide haymaker and delivers a vicious uppercut that lifts Leonidas off the ground, allowing Deinmaar to reach down and grab one of his frost encased ankles before swinging the Juggernaut of ice over his shoulders and ramming him into the earth.

The storage room shakes and crack as Deinmaar snarls in outrage, venting out his anger and stress as he whirls around and slams the giant of ice into the ground repeatedly.

But when he stops, his anger is only incensed when Leonidas is just staring up at him, frost-encased arms crossed over his chest. "I still hear nothing, buddy."

Deinmaar snarls, "What do you want me to say?!" He roars out, one foot rising and crashing down to try and stomp the Undead's head to pieces.

A sonic-boom ripples forth as a Draconian Howl slams into Deinmaar's chest, forcing him to stumble back and nearly fall, allowing Leonidas to swiftly rise back to his feet. "Anything, you fucking dumbass!"

"Talk! Scream! Rage! Make me understand why you are like this!" Their forms collide together once more in a test of might, and Deinmaar's ardent eyes never leave those glowing green flames.

Their hands, locked together and pushing against each other, kept them from advancing further. Stopping them from lashing out with more senseless violence.

"I don't want you to understand!" Deinmaar shouts, pressing forward through gritted teeth, his anger rising when Leonidas openly laughs at him.

"Now that's a nice fucking lie!" The Undead sneers, "But alas, I do not give a flying fuck about what you want! I only care about what the people out there need!" His head draws back, and Leonidas promptly headbutts Deinmaar, ending their stalemate.

"And what they need, is a man that won't fucking mope around like a little bitch for Four fucking Eras and will stand to do what is right!"

Deinmaar lashes out with a stressed bellow, his massive arm swinging through the air with enough force to kill lesser Dragons. "Then you're looking at the wrong fucking man!"

His swing misses, forcing him to stumble, but Leonidas is soon upon him as soon as Deinmaar turns around.

The Juggernaut of Ice shoulder tackles him through a wall, then three more until he slams Deinmaar into a wall that does not give in. "I know I am looking at the wrong man!" Leonidas shouts right back, pulling back to slam a palm against Deinmaar's helmet clad head and slam it back into the destroyed wall, "But I can still see his dumbass deep in there!"

"You can't hide that desperation and need to be someone from me, Deinmaar! Because I used to see it in the fucking mirror every fucking morning!"

Deinmaar grunts, finding his immense strength constantly fail him as he clutched at the wrist of the hand pressing his skull against the wall, "Then take my armor!" He shouts, seemingly desperate, lost. "Take my gear! Become their Deinmaar-"

Leonidas cuts him off with a roar of frustration, his arm wrenching Deinmaar out of the crater in the wall before slamming the Atmoran's immense form back into it, "It's not the fucking armor, you goddamn cunt!"

"It's the fucking idiot wearing it, and that's you!" Another slam into the wall, causing a massive section of it and the ceiling to crumble all over them, "You are Deinmaar! You are who they want and need!"

Deinmaar screams in frustration right back, a second wind of strength filling his cold body and allowing him to push back and punch Leonidas with enough force to shatter a great amount of ice armor off his form as the Undead stumbles back.

"I did not want any of this to happen!"

"So fucking what!?" Leonidas whirls around with a vicious punch that slams Deinmaar back into the wall, causing the room around them to start collapsing even faster.

"You think life is all about fucking choosing and getting?! No!" The Undead shouts in anger, digging Deinmaar's form out of the debris and hurling the man across the room.

"You choose, but you don't get! You make do with the hand that is then dealt to you after you made your choice! You don't get to see where you end up, the consequences of your actions or inaction! You only get to accept that and move the fuck on!"

Deinmaar tries and fails to rise from the ground, his eyes screwing shut as he punches the ground with the left-over strength he could manage to muster, "I can't!" He shouts, voice thick with sorrow, "I can't move on! I cannot accept what I've done!"

Leonidas stomps on the ground, a few paces away from the downed Atmoran, "Talk! To! Me!"

Deinmaar shakes his head, breathes in, then shouts before lifting his head to stare towards Leonidas, "This was a gaol! Managed my me!"

"I was the Dragon Priest of Law! I made sure no mortal or Dragon overstepped their boundaries! That there was no senseless slaughter and ruthless killing from the Dragons, and no revolts from the people!"

The ground around them keeps cracking, the ceiling and their surroundings collapsing further with each passing second.

"I upheld Justice! I wanted nothing more than to see the people and Dragons coexist as companions! As friends!" Slowly, Deinmaar stands, renewed with energy. His body stands tall, brimming with power, his hands clenched at his sides.

"And then what happened?" Leonidas probes further as Deinmaar opens his right hand.

A rumble echoes around them, and soon a massive blade flies into view and into Deinmaar's grasp.

"The War happened." Deinmaar hisses out between gritted teeth, "The gaol was changed. The mortal prisoners executed. The Dragon ones freed."

Leonidas's shoulders sag, "You watched everything you worked hard for go up in smoke." Deinmaar slowly nods, "I'm sorry."

The Atmoran comes to a pause, the simmering rage within him suddenly being quenched even as the frost around Leonidas recedes enough to allow him to pull the handle of a sword without blade.

"I have a great many questions." The Undead Mage starts, letting his Magic flow through the crystal in the handle so to create a sleek and large frozen blade. "I always felt like that the odds were stacked against the rebellion, especially after seeing the murals on the doors of the temple."

The frost of his armor crackled and popped, growing thicker and spikier with each passing second. "I wish there was a way for me to help you without all of… this. I'm sorry." His words were genuine, his apology heartfelt. For once, he truly disliked being an asshole, despite the fact that this time it was needed.

Deinmaar lowers his head, his own magic rumbling to life, stone and marble around him melting within seconds, "Don't apologize. I understand."

Leonidas sighs, and azure flames cloak his armored form and blade, "But you know I won't stop now. Not until we both face what is below."

Deinmaar breathes in, and his eyes close in acceptance even as he grabs his massive blade with both hands, "I know."

The pieces in Leonidas's mind started falling into place as both fighters stomped forward, blades wrapped and howling in their respective magic cleaving through the air with all the might they could muster and unleash.

Origin Runes of the Draconian Howl Spell bloomed to life on Leonidas's frozen blade cloaked in azure flames just as frost, flames and plasma clashed together.

The collision vaporized the island and the surrounding island, displacing the clouds high above and nearly sending the spectators on the wall flying.

The majority were temporarily deafened by the blast born from the collision that created a gargantuan hole in the ocean below. The waves did not even have time to rush back in to refill the hole as a wave of heat evaporated what drew close before they were frozen still.

Leonidas and Deinmaar were left falling into the depths of the island, laying directly on the ocean floor down below, now ripped apart and left out in the open after their collision.

Leonidas was out of words. He couldn't wrap his head around the sheer level of strength and power he was wielding… And he wasn't even going all out, just like Deinmaar.

He was testing the waters, while the Atmoran did not have his head in the right place so he couldn't muster the majority of his strength.

Both crashed into the depths of the table at the same time, and Leonidas swiftly stood up, unfazed by the impact.

His gaze falls on the spot he had fallen on. A throne, with a rotten table in front of it… And a corpse. A long decayed corpse, impaled upon a staff that punched straight through its broken Dragon Priest mask.

The dragon-like staff lay stabbed into the ground right before the throne, with the corpse hanging off of it, the rotten robes and masks revealing the victim to be a Dragon Priest.

Straightening himself, Leonidas lets his gaze wander around. Thick and dense steam covered most of his vision, but what he could see that was close to him… Countless thrones, countless corpses, countless destroyed masks. Each killed in a different way, but all laid to rest on their thrones.

Impaled, bisected, decapitated, pulverized- At least a dozen different Dragon Priests. That he could see now.

The pieces fell into place, and the puzzle became whole.

"This is a graveyard of your comrades, isn't it?" Leonidas questions as he hears Deinmaar slowly stand, his form cloaked within the slowly dissipating steam.

"One of my own making." The Atmoran reveals as the steam keeps fading away, revealing more thrones, more corpses, more Dragon Priests.

Dozens became hundreds, hundreds became a thousand as the enormous circular hall came into full view.

"I used my authority… To call for a meeting." Deinmaar starts, his form coming into view as he crumbles to his knees, head lowered. "The gaol was turned into a War Council when the war started, and this was the main hall."

"When the war started, I had to take a side. But I couldn't!" His fist crashes into the ground, shaking the whole hall as Leonidas looks around, finally understanding why no one could approach the island.

All these corpses of so many powerful Dragon Priests put together… It is only normal they'd create an atmosphere that none could stand in. It would be suffocating.

"The Dragon Priests are the main force of the Dragon Army. Not due to their power, but due to their intelligence." Deinmaar's fingers dig through the dust covered stone beneath him, "The mortals knew how to weaponize a Dragon arrogance. Using it to draw them into ambushes that would claim their lives."

"But the Dragons listened to their Dragon Priests, and would seek their advice, and follow their plans. If that were allowed to happen…"

Leonidas nods in understanding, "Then the war wouldn't have lasted long." Stepping forward, the Undead slowly approaches the distraught Atmoran, "Many of these Dragon Priests were your friends and comrades, weren't they?"

"Yes!"

"Not all of them were truly, fully bad."

"No!" Another fist crashes into the ground, "So many of them did it out of fear! Fear that if they joined the rebellion, their families would suffer! So many of them had brothers and sisters, daughters and sons, or husbands or wives!"

Throwing his head up, Deinmaar locked eyes with the Undead before him. Eyes filled with hate and sorrow locked with flickering green flames, "Now you know why the war was even remotely in the rebellion's favor! Because of me!"

"Because I stained my hands! Because I went against my Code! Because I committed the greatest sin of all! Because I betrayed my comrades!"

"Because I alone slaughtered the High Council of Dragon Priests!"

Leonidas sags his shoulder as he stares at the distraught man before him.

A man loyal to a fault. One who had tried, and tried… And failed due to the actions of others.

Leonidas wonders if things could have gone differently if Alduin didn't pull his bullshit.

Would Dragon and mortal been able to truly coexist? He had seen some cases so far.

Kara and Lah, husband and wife despite the sheer difference between them.

The titanic Dragon from Falkreath, that used to have a kingdom that worshiped him, and that he dearly loved.

Just two cases, but how many more did he not know about? There was Paarthurnax too, a Dragon that overcame his nature.

"I cannot say that what you've done was right." Leonidas starts, stepping closer to the kneeling giant of a man, "But I also cannot say that it was wrong." His armor cracks and falls apart, revealing the robed Undead beneath.

Reaching up, the Krosis Mask is revealed to reveal the corpse beneath, the flickering green flames now more visible than before. A frozen corpse stared down at Deinmaar, and the green flames flickered gently. "I am not here to judge you. But…"

"I want you to give yourself a chance. Please." His right hand rises up and is offered to Deinmaar, "There's a barrel of mead waiting for you in Winterhold, after all."

Deinmaar silently stares at Leonidas' outstretched hand for several silent seconds before lowering his head… And chuckling softly. "A barrel won't be enough."

Leonidas shrugs, a chuckle escaping him too, "I'm sure they'll realize their mistake too once they see just how massive you are, my guy."

Leaning back and breathing in, Deinmaar nods and raises his hand-

Only for something to crash down from the skies and shake the land.

The impact shatters the frozen waters around the bottom of the temple, yet the waters start boiling and retreating further, as if afraid of whatever had just crashed down from the Heavens.

"Anomaly."

A voice that came from the depths of hell rumbles out from within the tower of dust born from the impact.

Gargantuan black wings blacker than the night sky spread wide, warding away any dust and debris, and revealing the titanic form beneath.

Jagged black spikes, a form so black and so terrifying it would evoke nightmares in Dragons and mortals alike.

Reality itself twisted and squirmed around the gargantuan black Dragon, as if hating and rebuking his existence.

"Your existence is a disruption to the proper flow of Time."

Baleful red eyes glare down, instantly locking on Leonidas' robed form. Then they flick towards Deinmaar's downed form.

"Deinmaar? Good. Claim his life, and I shall pardon your foolish betrayal."

The World-Eater declares, wings spread wide, darkening the surrounding area as if the Sun started setting.

Leonidas stares at Alduin for several quiet seconds before turning his gaze back towards the downed Deinmaar.

Their eyes lock, and if Leonidas could smile, he would. His arm rises and is offered to Deinmaar once more.

Deinmaar clasps the outstretched hand without hesitation and is helped back to his feet. His right hand opens, and his blade flies back into his grasp as he rolls his neck and stares up at Alduin defiantly.

The World-Eater growls and bares his fangs, the sound rumbling across the graveyard of Dragon Priests.

Meanwhile, Leonidas just chuckles.

"Oh, you're about to get jumped."

A.N. Another cliffhanger? Back to back?

I am loving this.

Torturing you all, I mean! Muhuahahaha-!

I did say Alduin was gonna appear some chapters ago, so here he is!

Will he lay waste to his surroundings? Will he get jumped?

Also, Aurelia and Gretel will reunite with Leo and Hildr soon enough! More diabetes inducing sweetness incoming!

Hope y'all enjoyed this chappy!

Toodles!

I, Draugr Chapter 35

The temple's entrance explodes like a balloon filled with air being poked with a needle.

A cloud of dust rises high, and debris rain everywhere as a cloaked figure is sent hurling across the island, bouncing off the ground like a pebble skipping on stone.

A lone claw-like gauntlet hammers into the ground, bringing an end to the Leonidas' unconventional flight before a dense chilly mist erupts forth from his form.

The arm dug into the earth swings upward, and the island shakes and rumbles as a gargantuan glacial spike stabs skyward, reaching into the clouds, swallowing more than half of the whole island.

The ocean waters around the island quiver as the sound of icecaps breaking rings out, a near deafening rumble that shakes the very organs of those safe within the walls of Winterhold.

Straightening himself, Leonidas dusts his robes off before taking a step to the side just as his glacial spike shatters into smithereens as a wave of force sweeps past.

Clouds, earth and ocean alike are cleaved apart by a colossal crescent moon-like blade born from the mere swing of a weapon. A show of pure, overwhelming physical might instead of Magic.

Leonidas doesn't even gaze at the destruction left in the wake of that attack and instead tilts his head towards Deinmaar's towering form, now standing within the ruins of his previous prison.

"Not so depressed now, are we?" The cloaked Undead calls out, raising his voice to reach the towering Atmoran within the ruins, "Depressed enough to not do jack shit for entire Eras, but not enough to stop ya from killing a very curious tourist, huh?"

Within his mind, Leonidas decided that he had to be an asshole. That he needed to push and antagonize Deinmaar as much as possible. Make him talk and vent, and use that as ammunition to further anger him.

Deinmaar remained still, like a towering mountain within a storm, "I am a Dragon Priest no longer." The giant of a man shakes his head, his voice tinged with regret.

Leonidas shrugs without care, "Obviously. Your order got fucked up the ass during the Merethic Era after Alduin got his shit rocked across Time and Space… But unfortunately, the big winged cunt is back! And that's on us!"

The Atmoran tilts his head and rolls his shoulders, "Us?" He questions, and Leonidas laughs and raises his hands up high as he keeps walking, the towering man's gaze never leaving his form.

"Oh, I'm sorry for including you! I'm sure you want to go back to being fucking useless for a couple more Eras, if we'll even have them." A clawed finger jabs in a certain direction, aimed straight towards the out-of-view Winterhold, "I'm sure you still won't give a fuck when Dragons come to raze down the very City you helped build and use the people living there as a late afternoon snack."

A creaking and popping noise rings out as Deinmaar clenches his hands, a deep breath filling his lungs, "Why are you doing this?"

His mind struggled to wrap itself around the robed man before him now, and the one that kept visiting him each night, for entire months.

One was warm, friendly, and overflowing with humor.

This one… This one was cold. Ruthless.

"Why are you doing this?" He questions softly, yet his voice still reaches the Undead far across the ruined landscape.

Leonidas laughs in response, "Why are you doing this?!" He shouts right back, stopping his walk to fully face Deinmaar, "Fucking talk to me! Or talk to them!" Once more, his finger jabs towards Winterhold, "Those people need you! I can't fucking be everywhere to protect everyone!"

Deinmaar straightens himself faintly in surprise as he catches that faint hint of desperation within Leonidas voice. That faint hint of fear.

It was like staring at his younger self. A proud man who swore to protect everyone. To uphold justice against those abusing their powers to make others suffer.

A very old part of him, deep within his chest, stirs at the sight of someone in need of help. The old Deinmaar would have already been beside them, ready to offer assistance.

But the current Deinmaar closes his eyes and hangs his head, and Leonidas clenches his hands into fists at the sight.

"Fine." The Undead nods, "Dragging you off this dumb rock it is, then."

A sharp whistle- Deinmaar's eyes widen as he stumbles back, left shoulder hanging back from a near-deafening impact that nearly kicked him on his ass- Thick ice cloaks his armor and body before he can even fully straighten himself.

It takes but a flex of his body to shatter it, but inwardly Deinmaar shivers deeply. The cold… It latched onto him, and refused to leave. It dug deep into his flesh, blood and very bone marrow.

Roaring flames wash forth with a flick of his wrist and swing of his blade, scorching the ground black in a split-second, yet the heat does not drive away the cold.

Instead, Leonidas takes a step within his conjured conflagration and freezes it solid together with his body.

A shuddering breath leaves Deinmaar's lips, his lungs aching and his body shivering as a dense mist shrouds the whole island, hiding it from view.

'What terrifying Frost Magic…' Deinmaar muses internally, feeling his fingers go numb from the sheer cold that presses down upon him.

Slowly, Leonidas' shorter form stops right before Deinmaar once more, unafraid of the immense might the Dragon Priest wields or of being within range of his deadly greasword.

The Mask of a fallen comrade stares back at him, and rage slowly warms Deinmaar's chest as he breathes in through his nostrils. "I will not leave my post." He declares as he raises his greatsword, embers flicking to life all around his body.

Soon, an inferno blooms to life, crimson flames going blue then turning a blinding white, yet the cold and mist weren't fully driven away.

A pillar of blinding flames pierced into the heavens, and Deinmaar stood in the middle of it, the bedrock below him bubbling and melting beneath the heat of his flames.

The Mask of his deceased comrade lights up, and the whole island is swallowed by a conflagration of sky-blue flames. The howls of those flames was chilling, akin to wailing ghosts straight out of someone's worst nightmare.

Cold and hot flames clashed, hissing violently as the two wielders just stared at each other without flinching.

Deinmaar squeezed his hands into tight fists to stop their trembling, the cold stabbing deep into his despite the cocoon of flames wrapped around his form.

He doubted that even swimming into a volcano would drive away this terrifying cold feeling that leeched into his bones.

Slowly, he breathes out. His sword wielding arm moves to hold the immense blade before his chest, his other hand joining to grab the handle and squeeze down on it.

Royal blue sparks bloomed to life within the cocoon of white-hot flames, the deep rumbles of distant thunder echoing forth as pillars of lightning flashed into existence, making the waters around the island surge and quiver.

And slowly, flames and thunder alike merged and became one. The heat skyrocketed.

The ocean started boiling and the island started melting as blinding plasma howled into existence, resembling a star walking the earth, blinding any staring towards the battle from the walls of Winterhold.

Arcs of plasma flew in all direction, melting chunks off the island with laughable ease as Deinmaar swings his greatsword to the side and stomps forward, resuming the battle that had barely started.

His foot crashes into the earth with enough force behind it to crater it, that lone leap bringing him further into Leonidas personal space, greatsword made out of dragon bones and Ebony cleaving through the air ruthlessly.

A lone claw-like gauntlet rises to meet that attack, glacial winds and roaring azure flames wrapped around that robed limb. "Krah-!" A lone Draconic Chant echoes out before Deinmaar saw white.

From that lone palm erupted a colossal beam of pure Frost and Cold flames that swallowed half of the island and split the ocean, leaving enormous icebergs and a frozen landscape in its wake.

Deinmaar roars through the pain of the frost stabbing into his flesh and blood and kicks forward, his boot smashing into Leonidas' chest and sending the robed man flying once more.

But the Undead just laughs and creates a column of ice for himself to smash into and stop his flight instantly, his form rising without problem nor care, "You won't leave your post, huh?" He questions aloud, and Deinmaar feels the hair on the back of his neck stand on end at the tone of his voice, "What if you don't have a post to guard anymore?"

A lone clawed finger stretched out, first pointing towards Deinmaar… Then aimed downward.

"Don't you dare-!" His shout came too late. A Draconian Howl howled to life and pierced into the earth, shaking the island down to its foundation and stabbing a hole into its bowels.

Deinmaar saw red, a roar of fury leaving his lips as he crosses the distance with two lone leaps, his greatsword cleaving the sound-barrier apart as it crashes down towards Leonidas's head.

Only for the Mage to duck beneath the predictable swing with laughable ease and step within Deinmaar's personal space, right arm fully drawn back and right hand clenched into a fist wrapped in Cold Flames and howling Frost Magic.

A Draconian Howl Origin Rune blooms into existence upon Leonidas' knuckles just as his fist crashes into Deinmaar's stomach, making the man's eyes widen as his body is bent and lifted off the ground from the surprisingly immense force of the blow.

Then the Origin Rune explodes with force, and Deinmaar grunts in pain as an ear-splitting crack pulverizes their surroundings and sends his huge form flying across the island.

After so long of not fighting and not having been in a battle, all of his senses had grown dull. The immense pain nearly blinded him, especially coupled with the insane cold that just refuses to leave his form despite being cloaked in blinding plasma.

With a grunt, his fingers lash out, melting trenches through the earth to stop his momentum, yet he soon hisses and coughs heavily as he stands, his free hand holding his stomach.

"You remind me of myself. Before I came to Skyrim." Leonidas's voice reaches his ears, but Deinmaar sees only dense and thick mist when he looks up. "I had a dream. A simple one, really. I just needed to push myself and study hard enough to achieve."

His voice was gentle, yet seemed to come from everywhere as the dense mist drew closer, "And in my mind, I though I really did. That I worked as hard as I could… Yet I failed. I failed to achieve that dream."

"Wanna know what I did next?" Slowly, Deinmaar straightens himself, adjusting his labored breathing as his gaze flicks around to spot his adversary through the dense mist. "Take a guess. Talk to me."

Deinmaar wets his lips and breathes in, "You gave up?" A 'Ding! Ding! Ding!' sound comes from the man beyond the mist.

"Got it in one! Bravo!" Leonidas chuckles, "Pathetic of me, no? I could have tried twice, thrice- I could have kept trying so many times… But instead I gave up. I got depressed."

"And then I started doing things that I thought helped me with my depression, but in reality they just distracted me from it. It was an escape from a cruel Reality I had to face."

The Atmoran grits his teeth and narrows his eyes, "What does that have anything to do with me…?" He questions, despite hating the fact that he already knows the answer.

For he and Leonidas were alike.

"It has everything to do with you, but you can ignore that, if you want." Deinmaar couldn't bring himself to do that. Not anymore. Not when it is shoved directly in his face.

"Whatever happened here fills you with guilt. With a pain that I can only even imagine." Leonidas' voice is comforting, and Deinmaar forces down the urge the smile, "But instead of working through it, of even trying to find an escape from it… You let it chain you down. Literally and figuratively."

Gripping his blade and glowing with plasma, Deinmaar stands tall, "And what will you do about this decision of mine?"

He could hear the shrug that Leonidas gave at his question, "Break those chains, of course." The Undead states without care, "And if to do that I must destroy this island, well…"

A step behind him- Deinmaar whirls around and his blade strikes true, but his eyes widen when he takes in the dispersing form of a flaming Werewolf being what he had cleaved apart.

A palm slams into his chest and lifts him high in the air, then slams him back down onto the earth below.

Leonidas' masked face stares down at him, palm pressing down on his chest, "Ever heard of Exposure Therapy, my friend?" Deinmaar's eyes widen, and a blinding Origin Rune blinks into being below Leonidas' palm, its light growing with each passing second, "Oh, you have?"

"Then welcome to the Leonidas' Special! My very own take on it!"

The power within the Origin Rune washes forth before Deinmaar could even twitch a finger, and he feels the force of a meteor slam into his chest and cave the island in.

Floor after floors caves in, one after another, and Deinmaar roars in anger and pain as he grabs Leonidas robes, hurling him aside with as much strength he could muster before they finally crashed down.

Deinmaar stands with a grunt, panicked eyes flicking around as he swings his free arm to clear away the cloud of dust to peer across the debris.

He only relaxes when he realizes that this was the abandoned armory of the temple, all the equipment left behind having rotted and fallen to ruin due to the passage of time and lack of care.

Breathing out in relief, he raises his greatsword- A piercing howl makes him flinch as the dust is cleared and a Draconian Howl punches his greatsword out of his hand, sending it flying to the side.

"No more weapons." Came Leonidas' voice through the cloud of dust and debris, his steps strangely loud and heavy.

Deinmaar clenches his hands into fists and starts walking towards the sound of his voice, steps equally heavy and pulverizing any debris within his wake.

"We fight like men now."

A Juggernaut of frost resembling Daedric Armor of old stomped into view, as tall and as imposing as the Atmoran advancing forward without blinking.

Both rolled their shoulders, and Deinmaar flares his nostrils.

"I couldn't agree more."

Their pace quickens and their arms draw back.

And then, they greet each other like proper Nords do.

By punching each other in the face hard enough to pulverize their surroundings.

                                                                           ~~XXX~~

With a grunt and sharp exhale, Balgruuf wrenches his blade out of the Dragon's skull and allowed his gaze to roam around the rest of Dragonsreach.

His glorious palace and throne room now lay in ruin and set on fire. Pain filled his heart at the sight, but the Jarl pushed through and turned to the more important matters.

"Farengar!" He bellows aloud, uncaring of his Court Mage location, only knowing that the Mage would hear his incoming order, "Have your students bring out the scrolls! Use the Master Class ones, too!"

With that order echoing in the air, he turns towards the guards moving left and right to help move the Jarls to a secure place.

Some, unfortunately, did not survive the initial onslaught. Mainly the Jarls of Falkreath and Winterhold.

One had been torched by the Dragon that smashed through Dragonsreach, the other was buried beneath the rubble.

Moving swiftly, Balgruuf moves to assist Elisif to her feet, the woman having a nasty cut on her head from a bad fall, "Apologies for being an inconvenience, Jarl Balgruuf…" The woman apologizes, but Balgruuf merely scoffs as he waves a guard over.

"While I am sure that Torygg would love to have you in Sovngarde with him, I am more sure that the people of Solitude still need you." Patting the woman on the head, he leaves her to the guard that had approached, "Lead her to the safety bunker with the others."

The guard nods and assists the wounded woman, her own personal guards moving to follow after her.

With another Jarl being led to safety, Balgruuf moves his gaze to find the one man more important than them all within the room.

The Emperor and his golden armor entered his vision, with the elderly man sitting on the ground, being supported by three of his personal guards.

And what personal guards they were… Balgruuf had seen them battle, and two of them had easily assisted in taking care of the Dragon that smashed through Dragonsreach.

The Dragon wouldn't have gone down as easily had it not been for those three assisting them.

"Balgruuf, my boy." The Emperor calls out when he notices the Jarl approach, one of his hands rising up to pat Balgruuf on the shoulder once the man squats down to be more eye-level with the elder. "I have a task for you. An important one."

Balgruuf pushes any complaint to the side and nods, eyes narrowed in determination, "Your will is my command, Emperor."

The Emperor's gaze drifts towards the destroyed section of Dragonsreach, showing the sky filled with Dragons.

They flew in a circle, dozens of them, like vultures. Sometimes diving down to breathe fire or frost or lightning upon the city below, harming and killing more of his citizens. More of his people.

"The people, the soldiers… They are all scattered and afraid, my boy." The hand on Balgruuf's shoulder squeezes down, "Unite them all. They need to hear the voice of their leader. The voice of their Jarl."

"Only together may we cut down these vile beasts."

Balgruuf flares his nostrils and nods, then he stands, leaving the Emperor with his personal guards.

His own guards approached, pieces of his personal armor forged by the best Blacksmiths in Whiterun being wrapped around his body as he never stopped walking.

But as he walks, he takes note of Ulfric, downed and wounded, yet still living.

Ulfric Stormcloaks lifts his gaze and finds a blade inches away from his throat, his eyes following the bloodied weapon to Balgruuf. Their eyes meet, and neither back down from the stare.

"The people of Skyrim still need your strength." Balgruuf states heavily before withdrawing his blade, "You can face your crimes now, or die protecting our home."

Ulfric gulps, then his gaze flicks towards the beasts proudly flying in the air. The sight of them diving down to wreak havoc made him flare his nostrils in fury.

Soon, his gaze flicks back to Balgruuf, "Let me die fighting for my own brothers and sisters. Like I have done in the past."

Balgruuf smiles and offers the downed man his hand, "Then may Sovngarde welcome you warmly." His hand is taken in a fierce grip, and Ulfric is lifted back to his fit.

At this time, during this tragedy, they had to put personal matters aside and stand together.

Ulfric finally saw to that. He was the destruction being wrought by the Dragons, and he couldn't stand that.

He cursed himself for being so blind these past months.

Ambition truly blinded many.

"The flag of the Empire…" Balgruuf hears a soldier speaks up softly, and his gaze strays towards a collapsed section of Dragonsreach, the rubble and dirt resting upon the long flag of the Empire, "It lies crumbled in the dirt like a rag! Because of those beasts!"

The Jarl feels his chest fill with ire at the sight. He had fought and bled and cried for the Empire.

When the Empire called for assistance, he was there. He had given up his duties instantly to aid it in war. He had helped the Emperor retreat back to Skyrim when the Imperial City had falled.

And he had also helped storm the Imperial City under the Emperor's charge in the attack that reclaimed it.

So he'd be damned if he'd let a flag he bled and killed for lay down in the dirt!

"My Jarl, I am with you." Farengar's voice reaches his ears, and Balgruuf smirks. As expected of his Court Mage, already knowing what he was about to request.

Marching forward, Balgruuf wrenches the flag free and swings it clear of dust and debris before holding it tall as he stands high upon the rubble of Dragonsreach main entrance.

Balgruuf breathes in, and Farengar weaves Illusion Magic to assist his Jarl-

"Sons and Daughters of Skyrim!"

The Nord man bellows, his voice carrying across the whole of Whiterun, overpowering even the roars of the Dragons above.

"Today, Sovngarde is calling for us!"

Down below, deep inside the city, Aela rushes around another corner as a Dragon swoops down, torching the whole street black in seconds.

The Huntress shut her ears to the screams of those she couldn't protect, her gaze nearly manic as she looked around, finding herself closer and closer to her target.

The sudden attack had scattered them, due to the Dragons having used the clouds as cover to get right above the city.

"Today, we stand in the name of the Empire!"

As Aela ran across the street, bow and arrows in hand, she could see the effect Balgruuf's voice was having already.

People stopped screaming and running around, and instead started growing calm.

The attack on Dragonsreach had broken their confidence, but the Jarl being alive lit up that courage within them once more.

"Today! We show these beasts the might of Skyrim!"

Turning another corner, Aela feels a smile of relief spread across her face at the sight of that familiar home she had visited so many times during these months to visit that energetic little brat.

A brat she had taken under her belt, and took out on a great many hunts.

But her heart drops the moment the house comes fully into view, and half of it is completely collapsed with a Dragon-

"Today! We march into Sovngarde with bloodied weapons, and stories to tell!"

Aela's gaze slowly drifts up as a large shadow falls over her.

The Dragon that had been tearing apart that small familiar home was now in the air, having been bodily thrown across the street with laughable ease.

Its large, stone-like form smashes into the earth and tears down entire homes with ease before it comes to a stop.

With a growl, the Dragon stands tall, wings spread far to the side… Yet Aela didn't miss the massive chunk of flesh that had been bitten off near its neck.

"I knew that I smelled a mutt of Hircine…" The Dragon, far bigger than the one that had attacked Whiterun with the Dragon Priest months ago, growls out, claws digging into the earth, "But you are no mere mutt of his, are you…?"

Aela suddenly realizes that the Dragon was not speaking to her.

The ground shakes, and a growl that makes her organs quiver makes Aela freeze, cold sweat covering her form.

"Grab your weapons, my people!"

An immense crimson wolf enters her line of sight, the majestic beast as big as the Dragon face it.

Slitted green eyes regard her for a short second before the immense wolf turns back towards the Dragons and stands protectively in front of her.

"...Gretel?" The wolf's tail wags once, and Aela feels herself grow faint.

She had seen the girls Werewolf form many times now. Crimson, much taller than normal Werewolves, showing that she comes from a bloodline blessed and loved by Hircine.

But this… This was different from that.

She is Hircine's Champion…? Aela realizes as the wolf breathes in.

"Kiss your Husbands, Wives, or Children!"

An ear-piercing howl rings out across the whole of Whiterun, heating up the blood of all those holding a blessing of Hircine.

Aela feels all of her fear and anxiety vanish into smoke, and she breathes in, finding a near-feral grin split her face.

The Dragon laughs, standing tall upon its hind legs, "Hah! You'll be a fine challenge, mutt! Come at-" The Dragon suddenly finds itself launched high into the air once more, the crimson wolf having moved far faster than it could have thought.

"For today! We live with Honor, and die with Glory!"

The crimson wolf pounces towards her prey, jaws filled with serrated teeth sinking into a lone wing and pulling-

A tearing sound fills the air together with a roar of pain as Dragon and wolf smash back down on the earth, Aela giving chase soon after.

"Ancestors, one and all-!"

With a grunt, the Emperor rises, smiling with pride as he watches Jarl Balgruuf hold the banner up high.

"BEAR WITNESS!"

The elderly ruler breathes in and closes his eyes with a nod.

In his mind, this was how a true Ruler had to be. Capable of filling his people with courage with just a few words.

One that holds such devotion and love towards his people that said people would be willing to die for him without thinking twice about it.

"Today! The Dragons will cower before our unyielding spirit!"

Turning his head, the Emperor lets his gaze fall on one of his three guards.

Clad in heavy Imperial Armor, and as quiet as ever, the glorious man beneath stared back at him, "Will you fight for me again, Forgotten Hero?"

The Emperor asks with a slightly teasing smile, earning a deep sigh from the man that had once worn his armor, and taken back the Imperial City.

Tyr chuckles, slapping the Hero on the back, "It is always an honor, Emperor."

The quiet Hero nods, the azure eyes beneath the helm burning with the same determination that had felled Naarifin.

Smiling, the Emperor stands tall and moves to join Balgruuf's side. The Jarl is surprised by the action. "You fight with us, Emperor?"

With a laugh, the elderly ruler answers, "My people are in need, and you think I will cower and seek safety?" He sneers and rolls his shoulders, "If I have to die, then let me die fighting for my people."

Balgruuf nods and smiles, "It is an honor to fight by your side once more."

"Hah!" The Emperor throws his head back with a grin, "The honor has always been mine! Lead us to battle then, boy!"

With a nod, the Jarl goes to speak once more, the people of his city rallied and granted courage through his words, and now fighting back against the Dragons with equal or even greater ferocity than the beasts.

The Emperor could see a few fall from the skies, having been impaled by the siege weaponry, while few even dared to fight them on the ground.

Cowardly beasts.

A cry cuts the air before Balgruuf could issue an order or speak further words, a sharp- "Incoming!" from one of the guards making them all raise their weapons and ready themselves.

A Dragon had broken off from the flying group taking dives upon the city below and made a beeline towards them, a roar leaving its jaws.

A second one came into view. Immense, with a wingspan bigger than the one ahead of it, and it was gaining fast.

For some reason, the Emperor saw Balgruuf grin.

The reason behind it was swiftly understood by others when the titanic Dragon rammed into the smaller one, enormous claws slamming into the beast's beast and causing them both to fall down upon the earth like meteorites.

The impact before Jorrvaskr's walls shook the whole city, and the titanic Dragon stood tall out of the cloud of dust and debris, letting out a roar so mighty and loud that it had the army above falter.

"Listen well, you gnats!" The Dragon roars heavenward, challenging its own brothers without care or fear. "I will no longer stand by and watch you needlessly slaughter people! No more!"

"For my name is Julspaan!" The Dragon declares, standing tall and proud, wings spread wide apart, "Come, you cowardly gnats! I'll show you how a Real Dragon battles!"

From the back, people heard Farengar say 'Mankind's Protector', which was likely the translation of the Dragon's name.

As one, the Dragons roared in fury at the challenge and insults, all turning to make a straight beeline towards the beast awaiting for them below.

But that is when a voice overwhelmed their mighty and furious roars.

A lone word, spat out with such rage, such hate, that the very skies changed color.

"JOOR-!"

The Dragons howled. Pain, fear, terror. Some flailed in the airs like chicks that do not know how to fly.

Others turned around, hoping to fly away. To escape the city. To escape that voice.

The voice that dictated their Fate.

"-ZAH-!"

The skies rumbled. A killing intent so thick and dense filling the air, choking up the throat of the Dragons that uselessly flailed.

Their howls turned into screams. Some even pleaded.

Some were shot out of the skies directly, massive arrows punching through their guts and heads and sending them plummeting down from the skies.

Then the final word was spoken.

"FRUL!"

It was a Death Knell.

Everyone who heard that Shout could understand what it was meant for. What it did.

Among the thirty plus Dragons in the air, nearly half of them were torn apart and set alight by a chilly light blue fire.

The others squealed.

They fell from the skies, smashing down into the city below… And the people roared, pouncing upon them like a pack of wolves seeing a sheep lost in the woods.

Laughing boisterously, Balgruuf raised his weapon and stomped forward.

No words were needed. Only laughter.

Laughter that spelled ill for the Dragons.

The Emperor chuckled to himself.

Sometimes, he forgets how crazy Nords can get…

A.N. I want y'all to think of something.

That wolf is Gretel's REAL Werewolf form. And I Hildr's has been stated to be 'so powerful she can't control it'.

Just think about that, 'kay? Totally ain't relevant. Nuh-uh.

Also, hope y'all enjoyed this chappy!

Am feedin' y'all, ain't I?

See ya soon!

Toodles!

I, Draugr Chapter 34

The Falmer were still throwing one hell of a tantrum within their temporary cage.

They had fully tore down the rock wall blocking them from swarming Winterhold, but now they were trapped behind my immense frozen wall that they tried and failed to break through.

By the estimate of some of the senior miners, they guessed that the Falmer would break through within a month's time due to how persistent they were.

But even then, the opening gained would be too small for them to lead a full-scale invasion of the city.

No matter what happens, the Falmer won't have any advantage in this attack unless the Dragon leading them takes action himself to blast open an immense opening in the mountain.

Kara theorized that Vulthuryol is testing the waters. The Dragon is a cunning yet cautious one, and won't take action unless it only sees a guaranteed victory.

The fact that it is being so careful very likely means it is unaware of Lah's and Kara's situations. It doesn't know that neither of them are around to protect Winterhold or stand against him.

The whole mining site was hollowed out within a day, all the gear and structures dismantled and dragged out so to allow the guards to set up a perimeter.

Walls, towers for archers and mages, spikes for traps and diving the possible waves of Falmers, and many other traps like burning oil and whatnot.

I've heard a lot of crazed giggling and pleased murmurs about 'fuckin' them pale bitches up', telling me how deep the hate for the Falmer goes.

So much so that the whole of Winterhold is awaiting for this battle and the chance to kill so many of them.

It is sad that the hollowed out mountain can't just be dropped on the army of Falmer, lest it does more damage to Winterhold- And also possibly closes the entrance to Blackreach.

While I've revealed its existence to Ancano and said that there are several entrances to it all across Skyrim, I do not wish to have him gain access to this one.

For I am sure that he'll contact plenty of his buddies – and while that will give me reason enough to just kill them all, it could cause a lot of annoying problems I do not wish to deal with.

Hence, by best options right now is to kill Ancano somewhere no one will notice. Make it so he just disappears out of nowhere, simple as that.

He has been amusing, but bullying him gets old quickly. All he does is just more posturing, more grumbling, more sneering, and more useless threats using his status that nobody gives a fuck about.

He is a decent mage, but nowhere near the likes of Krosis, and Hildr swiftly surpassed that Dragon Priest and is just growing stronger and stronger each passing day.

At least he generously gifted us a very wonderful room, so there's that. Once I get the chance, I'll get rid of him and clean away his filth from the College.

Though I could also use him as a guinea pig, now that I think about.

I have so many questions on magic that I wish to test out and find answers for. Like if it is possible to rip a limb off someone and then reattach it, but on another location on the body, and see if magic fuckery makes it work still.

And then make a new arm regrow. The same for fingers, or bones, or even eyes.

I've heard of Undead monstrosities with multiple limbs, after all, but I am curious to see if it can work on a living being too. I'm sure Ancano would look much better as some kind of circus attraction.

It would be amusing too, in my opinion. Turning the idiotic, arrogant man into some kind of walking Eldritch monstrosity with many arms, eyes, and-

"Leo?" I perk up with a hum, twirling the colorful pencil in my right hand almost absentmindedly as I turn towards Hildr, her form lazily lounging on my bed, with her long dark-red hair spilling everywhere. "Finally, I've been calling you for the past minute."

She huffs in amusement as she closes the notebook I gave her with all of Kara's teachings, with said woman having gone off to 'sleep'. Basically a type of stasis she puts herself in each day so to both not go insane from her lack of sleep and food, and to recover her Magicka.

Still… My thoughts come to a screeching halt, and I remain staring at Hildr. Not because of her striking beauty that always draws my gaze when I am distracted, but because I suddenly realize where my thoughts had ended up.

What in the actual fuck was I thinking about…?

I hear Hildr call for me again, the amused and lazy smile on her face disappearing in an instant as she sits up on my bed while I lean back on my chair.

Now that I think about it, I've really changed a lot. My joyful and weird way of speaking is gone, I resort to violence to amuse myself, I've taken lives without blinking or flinching or feeling much regret, just excusing it with a childish 'they are bad, I am good' mentality.

I am deteriorating, mentally wise. How many times did my thoughts stray towards needless violence and torture, towards things that would make Sheogorath smile and see fit to add to his insane realm.

Guess having a very active imagination is biting me in the ass now, huh?

"Sorry." I start with a deep sigh, wishing I could pinch the bridge of my nose and rub my eyes. Or even close them. "My thoughts had gone down a… very horrible route."

Hildr's lone eye narrows in worry at my words, "You've… Become more quiet, recently." She points out, making my shoulders sag. I was hoping certain changes about me wouldn't be noticeable, but… "I don't like this, Leo." Standing up, Hildr places a comforting hand on my shoulder, yet I can't feel that touch.

"Are you sure we can't go to Saarthal just yet?" I shake my head in the negative, making her sigh deeply.

"I'd love to say that I know what we can expect this time, but I do not." I wish I could rub my temples right now. How the fuck do I even have a headache? "Besides Undead Atmorans juiced up on Magicka, there might be other things we do not expect."

There are so many changes to this world that just force me to restrain myself and be careful.

It's not like in the game, where I can just stop time to scarf down a billion wheels of cheese and seven bottles of wine and Skooma so that then I can keep getting my shit ran by a Skeleton on Legendary Difficulty.

I do not wish to be passive and take one careful step at a time, but I am forced to do so at the moment.

"I'll keep being careful until there is no risk to your life." I sigh out, chuckling softly when Hildr huffs with a dark flush on her cheeks. Cute. "Plus, I'd rather we wait for Aurelia too. Her help will be invaluable."

A strange expression crosses over Hildr's face for about a second before it vanishes, making me unable to really guess what that meant as she turns to go back and sit on my bed.

"I still don't like having to wait so long to help you." I shrug at her words, earning me an adorable yet angry pout.

"And I do not want to put you in needless danger."

Hildr scoffs and crosses both her arms and her long legs, "First, it won't be needless, because it is for you." If I could smile, I'd have an ear-splitting grin right now, "Second, I am not a damsel that needs to be protected, you know?"

I shrug once more, "You are someone I care about-" She flushes darkly at that, "-So even if you were stronger than the World-Eater himself, I'd still try and protect you."

Hildr lowers her head and grumbles under her breath, knowing that she thoroughly lost. Still, I love that she worries about me so much.

"Then what are we going to do?"

I cross my own legs and arms with a hum, "For now, you keep training. Master the Original Runes of each of your Spells, and let's see how far we can push them."

"I'll get down the Original Rune of my own Spells, put them on Scrolls, and then have them delivered to Whiterun." A few dozen Terra Santa for Whiterun are a must.

I'll also write down a fun little plan for Farengar and the army. I will send a crap load of Anodyne scrolls for the plan to work, though.

If it even does work. But knowing how Nords are? It'll likely work, and then Whiterun will have an army of Saitama on their side.

"Right, we still got the Falmer issue." Hildr grumbles, then blinks when I shake my head.

"Winterhold will be able to handle that threat now that they are prepared. And we can easily tear that army apart with a single Spell." Which is what makes the whole thing weird for me.

The Dragon shouldn't know of the divide between the College and the people of Winterhold. The guards and the civilians won't ask help from the College now that this issue that is a threat to the city has risen.

If it is normal tasks like go and kill this Frost Troll or those idiots blocking the road, then yes, they will ask for help mainly out of laziness.

But when it comes to pride? When it comes to that, the Nord of the city will not ask help from the College and will want to deal with the whole Falmer army by themselves.

I'm sure I can worm my way in due to my friendship with Old Rob, but that would also be pushing things.

What exactly is this fucking Dragon trying to do?

I let my gaze drift towards the window behind my desk, which faces the direction of a certain island I've visited nearly every day for the past two months.

"I don't like it when you are quiet." Hildr states softly from my bed, and I chuckle lightly.

"I've just decided on something. That's all."

I'll get everything for Whiterun done within the week – I'll have to pay the Merchant Guild a visit for a massive load of paper – then, once my new gear arrives, I'll be ready.

"And what's that?"

If I could smile, I'd give Hildr the biggest grin I could.

"I'm going on the island, and do what I do best."

Hildr blanches, "What you do best is antagonizing people, though…?"

"Exactly."

Time to see what makes Deinmaar tick.

                                                                          ~~XXX~~

"But I don't wanna remain locked inside!" Gretel whines, stomping her food on the ground with as much strength she could muster, though it only ended up making her foot go numb than intimidate.

Aela stares down at her with a glare and hands on her hips, though Gretel did not flinch, for only her older sister could terrify her with a glare, "Young lady, this is serious."

"I'm not going to stab Ulfric, I promise!" The young red haired girl promises, two of her fingers crossed behind her back.

"Why are you crossing your fingers behind your back?" Farkas dumbly questions, and Gretel scowls and curses under her breath, having forgotten the giant man was behind her. "Why are you glaring at me now?"

Oh she was going to put a spider in his bed one of these nights. A giant Frost Spider, to be exact.

"It is not about that, Gretel." Aela sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation, "I wouldn't give a damn if you stabbed Ulfric in the dick or whatever. Hell, the entire city would love you if you did it-"

"But the city already loves me." Gretel points out, remembering the many gifts – bribes and offerings of peace – that kept being left at the door of her home.

"-Anyway." Aela stresses, and Gretel slumps down with a pout, "Things could, and will, get dangerous."

Gretel's eyes narrow, being very smart despite her age, and easily reading through the lines, "You think Ulfric will try something?"

The Moot was around the corner, soon to be held in Dragonsreach, and some of the Jarls had already arrived, each with their own group of personal guards.

Aela sneers, "It's Ulfric, of course he'll try something." Her gaze strays away, moving from Gretel towards the distant and towering Dragonsreach, "Like hell he is going to let the chance of all enemy Jarls being before him go."

Gretel wondered what honor there would be in that. Attacking others during a formal meeting, instead of a duel.

But then again, she remembers how Ulfric broke the vow he had taken with the Greybeards to Shout apart High King Torygg. A man that breaks a vow in such a manner held no honor, and should be given none.

"Fine, I won't go out." Gretel finally sighs and admits defeat, knowing that this would also greatly worry her sister and the others.

Aela smiles and relaxes at that, "When things go bad…" Aela pauses for a second, mulling over her next words carefully, "And only if you are in danger… Then you can go Werewolf to protect yourself."

The near feral grin that spreads across Gretel's face spells ill for any that might try her during the chaos, and Aela doesn't even bother offering them a prayer.

With a pat on the head, Aela sends the girl away to her home, knowing that several Companions with a sweet spot for her would would keep an eye on her house. Them and quite a few guards.

Despite her antics, many had grown to love Gretel within Whiterun. Mainly because her antics were calculated, and they always targeted those bad apples within the city.

Someone had a nasty personality and never got along with everyone? A quick visit from Gretel would swiftly turn them into people that loved everyone but the little red-haired demon.

Hell, Aula had heard many rumors of many paying Gretel just to have her pay someone a visit that would change their lives.

What nightmares the girl unleashed upon these people, Aela never found out. No one dared mention such things, and the guards always drank away whatever they saw at the crime scene until they forget the whole week's events.

"What do we do?" Farkas questions, shoulders and muscular arms tense. Aela couldn't blame him.

The air just felt… different. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end, and her nerves refused to relax.

"We stay on guard." Aela offers as she gazes towards Dragonsreach, bow and arrows made with Dragon Scales at the ready.

The loud roar of a horn rings across Whiterun, signaling the arrival of the final Jarl. Ulfric Stormcloak himself.

The bustling city falls into a quiet, and even the loud halls of Dragonsreach fall silent as they await the arrival of the final Jarl. The one the majority had been waiting for.

The middle of the large hall had been changed to house a massive circular table with a total of ten large chairs around it, each bearing a large flag of its respective Hold behind it and before it, laid upon the table.

The throne lay empty, covered by a long flag bearing the mark of Whiterun's Hold.

Eight of the nine seats already lay taken, and behind each Jarl stood their Housecarl and Court Mage, though some had a third follower. Be it a guard, or General Tullius himself for Elisif the Fair.

Taking in the tense hall, Jarl Balgruuf turns his gaze towards the Jarl of Solitude, a gentle gaze within his eyes. The widowed wife of Torygg lay with her back straight against her chair, a fiery determination within her gaze.

Balgruuf remembers meeting the woman many years ago, before the Civil War, and before Torygg's honorable yet unneeded death.

She was a bright, cheerful woman beloved by her court, and even more loved by her husband. The two had expressed a deep desire for a large family… A desire that now won't be granted due to the actions of another.

His gaze then moves Idgrod Ravencrone, supporter of the Imperials, but with little care for the Civil War as long as it has little effect on her Hold.

Then his gaze moves to Igmund, Jarl of Markarth, from where the whole Civil War started from.

Many blamed the man and his father for the war. For it was them that enlisted Ulfric's help to free the city from the now known Forsworn, granting Ulfric free worship of Talos should he succeed.

And he did through many horrid actions, from what Balgruuf heard a great many times.

The returning Imperial Legion then was refused entry to Markarth, and from there, the whole situation escalated and just kept growing worse and worse.

Moving his gaze away, Balgruuf gazes at someone who shouldn't be here. Dengeir of Stuhn, former Jarl of Falkreath.

Siddgeir was supposed to sit in that chair, yet somehow… The Jarl of Falkreath had changed within these past months, and no one had received word.

Dengeir was always a paranoid old man, and Balgruuf hoped his paranoia did not make the man turn on his own family just to support Ulfric.

His gaze then flies past Brina Merilis, new Jarl of Dawnstar, replacing Skald the Elder.

Then Laila Law-Giver, then finally Jarl Korir. A part of Balgruuf wanted to ask the man for any possible run-in with Leonidas just so he could relish on the man's suffering, but then he remembers how deeply Korir hates Mages and the College of Winterhold.

He had never understood why the whole Hold of Winterhold is not seen as 'Important' by many of his fellow Jarls. Balgruuf believes it might be because it was founded by an outsider far in the past, and to this day stands as one of the oldest Holds in Skyrim, if not the oldest.

"Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak of Windhelm has arrived." A powerful voice announces from the main open doors to Dragonsreach, followed by a series of heavy steps as everyone around the table straightens and grows tense.

Balgruuf can see Jarl Elisif hide her trembling clenched hands below the table and above her knees, her stormy face falling back into an emotionless stare that hid the fury deep within her.

Soon, Ulfric's form comes into view as he rises from the steps leading to the hall and large table. His shoulders were raised high and tall, appearing wide and strong, and his steps were confident and calm.

His bearded face was unreadable, and his eyes barely sweep across the gathered Jarls as walks to his seat.

Balgruuf flicks his gaze towards his followers. Wuunferth the Court Mage and Galmar Stone-Fist the Housecarl… And a third man, a Stormcloak soldier.

One who met Balgruuf's gaze, sending a jolt down his spine. Skald, Balgruuf realizes.

Brina seems aware of his real identity too, so Balgruuf merely leans back and acts like he saw nothing, despite the fact he fears for a soon-to-happen assassination attempt.

And of course, that is when Ulfric opens his damn mouth, "You've aged, Elisif." The man comments, making the much younger woman draw in a sharp intake of air through her nostrils.

"And you still live, unfortunately." The widowed woman answers back, her voice as cold as the waters near her city, "How does it feel like, I wonder?" Elisif questions, making Ulfric raise a lone confused brow, "Living with the fact that you ran, while the countless innocent lives of Helgen were reaped by a Dragon when you could have done something."

Her voice brings chills down the spine of each person within the hall, her words sharper than any blade could ever hope to be, "You can use the power of the Voice to murder my husband, but fighting a Dragon to save the sons and daughters of Skyrim is too much for you, it seems."

Balgruuf could see Ulfric clench his jaw and start to grow irate, but Elifis only smiles coldly at the sight and keeps going, tilting her head to gaze at the General standing behind me, "Tell me, General… How many Imperials-" She stresses the word out by raising her voice, "-Died to try and fight off that beast?"

The General answered in a powerful and heavy voice, "More than three hundred, my Jarl." The veteran stresses out, "Of the army of five-hundred that I had left after ambushing and capturing Ulfric Stormcloak, less than one hundred remain. The same amount lay crippled and unable to battle due to the burns they suffered from the attack."

With a swift and decisive movement, the General flicks his armor open, moves the chest-plate to the side, then raises the thick clothing beneath to reveal the muscular chest below, and the massive nasty burn that took up more than half of his left side. "I nearly died myself, were it not for the sacrifice of many of my brother-in-arms, and proper Nords of Helgen."

His gaze, now hard and near furious, "One such Nord was a child, bawling his eyes out for his parents, as he dragged me out from beneath burning rubble."

Balgruuf sighs deeply, feeling the atmosphere within his throne room already grow tense and full of hostility. But he had expected this to happen.

So, he slams his palm down upon the table before him, "We all have grievances due to this useless and needless Civil War." Balgruuf states aloud, his palm smoothing over the flag of Whiterun's Hold before him, "But this Moot has been called to either call a ceasefire until the much bigger threat is handled, or put a stop to this war once and for all."

Ulfric shakes his head with a scoff, "This war is for the greater good of Skyrim and its future. It will not be put on hold."

Balgruuf slams his fist on the table with enough force to shake it whole, "The Dragons threaten to lay waste upon our homes and you care only about an empty fucking title?!" He bellows with enough force to make all within the hall flinch back, "What future is there for Skyrim when all our brothers and sisters lay dead, scorched and unrecognizable, or chewed up within the stomach of a Dragon!?"

"What future is there for Skyrim when one of its own children is destroying it from within because he just doesn't give a fuck!?"

"Answer me, Ulfric!" The wood beneath his fist cracks and splinters as Balgruuf flares his nostrils, "What fucking future are you dreaming about?"

Instead of answering, the Jarl of Windhelm merely scoffs, "So you have decided to stand against me now, Jarl Balgruuf?"

Balgruuf laughs. It is a cruel and derisive laugh. "You send me a declaration of war and expect me to stand by you when you threaten my people?" Balgruuf sneers, "I stood shoulder and shoulder with you during the Great War to kill the enemies of the Empire. I won't stand shoulder and shoulder with you to kill mine own brothers and sisters."

If it came down to it, Balgruuf won't hesitate to do what is right. He won't hesitate to send that letter.

He won't hesitate to ask Leonidas to kill Ulfric, like he offered.

He would hate to do so, but after Leonidas had told him of how Alduin gains strength, and that Ulfric's actions only make the damn beast stronger… Balgruuf would easily put the lives of many over the life of someone who is too blind to see the harm they are doing.

From his right, Elisif sneers, "This war is already as good as over." She proclaims, a cold, cunning smile spreading across her face, "How has that crown treated you so far, I wonder?"

Her voice is tinged with pure amusement, "Has it granted you mysterious and miraculous powers like legends say?" She laughs, wiggling her fingers in the air mockingly, "Or has it only drained your funds and left you begging on the streets for pocket change from your people?"

Ulfric flares his nostrils, and Elisif laughs, "It pleases me greatly to see such a look on your face, Ulfric." The woman states, baring her teeth in satisfaction and cruel pleasure, "I will make you bleed for murdering my dear Torygg. That I swear upon the Divines watching over us."

"Again with this 'murder'…" The Jarl of Windhelm groans, palming his face in exasperation, but to also hide his growing fury, "It was a duel. One he had agreed to-"

"It was murder!" Elisif screams, cutting the man off and making him flinch as her palms slam on the table before her, "My dear Torygg respected you! He would have blindly sided with you! Yet you challenge a man not even twenty winters old and Shout him apart!"

"He knew he was going to die against you, yet he faced his death proudly, his honor unstained- And yet I did not have a corpse to weep over! A corpse to bury! Because you could not fight like a man, but fought like a coward!"

This time it was Ulfric's turn to slam his fist down on the table, unable to restrain his anger any longer, "It was a duel like the Old Nord Ways and he knew it! And I did not Shout him apart, but on the ground, and finished him off with my sword!"

Elisif lets out a cruel, mocking laugh, "Yes, boast about how you felled a man that never held a sword in his life."

Ulfric sneers, "Killing Torygg proved my point. Skyrim has grown so weak that now it elects a boy for High-King, instead of a man that knows how to hold a sword!" Standing from his seat, Ulfric looks down upon all the gathered Jarls, "So what if I Shouted him apart? So what if I used the Voice against him? It is an honorable art of war-"

"'Before the Sky, thou shall vow silence.'" A powerful and heavy voice suddenly cuts in, echoing across the whole hall and coming from the open doors of Dragonsreach.

Ulfric's face blanches, and General Tullius stands straighter than before.

"'Before the Sky, thou shall vow not to kill with thine Voice.'" The steps grew louder. Heavier.

Four towering guards of Whiterun, clad in heavy, bulky and fearsome Draconplate Armor flanked an elder clad in bright golden armor with a long crimson cape bearing the near-glowing with Imperial symbol on it.

"'Thine vow is Eternal. Thine Voice a gift.'" The heavy gaze of the Emperor falls upon Ulfric, and the man's knees visibly buckle beneath the weight of the gaze alone.

Stepping forward, the Emperor moves to walk past Ulfric, "The vow has, by thine own hand, been broken." The aged Emperor's voice is quiet, almost feeble, yet still powerful enough to shake Ulfric to his core, "Do you know, Ulfric Stormcloak…"

Each of his steps was heavy, causing his heavy armor to rattle as the imposing Emperor walks around the table, arms crossed behind his back, head lowered to stare at the ground before his feet.

"Each time the Nords have used the Voice during a War… They never won." The Emperor points out, "The Battle of Red Mountain ended with a loss, despite Jurgen Windcaller himself leading the armies."

"After the loss, he became a pacifist, convinced that the Gods were disappointed with Nords using the Voice for War. He founded the Greybeards, and the Order still stands to this day."

Walking past Tullius, the Emperor smiles at his General and gives the man a pat on the shoulder that shakes the man on his feet. "Do you know who else tried to use the Voice for War and failed, Ulfric?"

Slowly, the Emperor's gaze moves back to gaze at the Jarl of Windhelm, "Emperor Tiber Septim himself."

A mocking smile spreads across the Emperor's aged face, "And he failed. Over and over." His armored shoulders shrug, "He created the Imperial College of the Voice in many places. Few still stand to this day. I believe the one in Markarth is also gone, yes?" The Jarl of Markarth gulps and nods, unable to bear the weight of the Emperor's mere glance.

"I believe that is proof enough, yes?" Shaking his head, the elderly Emperor sighs deeply, returning his hands to his back, "But lessons must be learned the hard way. And this foolish rebellion of yours is one, I guess. I just wish it was one of those lessons that didn't come at the cost of countless innocent lives."

Unable to remain silent and with a bent back, Ulfric straightens himself and gulps heavily before speaking up, "I truly believe that Skyrim's future will be brighter once it secedes from the Empire-"

"And then what?" The Emperor cuts Ulfric off, voice light yet stern, his eyes not even glancing towards the younger man as he keeps pacing slowly around the table, "The Thalmor will pounce upon Skyrim the very second you gain this 'Freedom', and you expect to fend them off?"

"You expect to succeed where the whole Empire failed?" The Emperor did not sneer, but his words were basically one.

The heavy steps started slowing, "You start a rebellion. You weaken the Empire and Skyrim. You give the Thalmor access to Skyrim through your own actions. You bring death and divide your own people." The Emperor comes to a stop before the throne of Whiterun, his head held high to stare at the Dragon Skull above the throne.

"Answer me this, Ulfric Stormcloak of Windhelm, son of Hoag Stormcloak, the Great Bear of Eastmarch…" The Emperor's hand gently strokes over the Whiterun flag laying upon the throne, his powerful voice shaking the hall.

Slowly, he turns around and walks to the table, where he stops and straightens his back to stare down at Ulfric with a gaze that could crush lesser man.

"Why should you leave this hall with your head still upon your shoulders?"

The thick silence that fell upon the hall only lasted but a few moments.

And was then horribly brought to an end by the powerful blaring of several horns all across Whiterun.

Balgruuf stands, eyes wide in horror as he recognizes the warning.

A Runner rushes above the steps, pale in the face, and pure horror within his young eyes, "My Jarl! Dragons! In the sky!" The boy nearly screams, collapsing on his knees as he breathes in and out harshly.

"Dozens of them!"

And soon, roars joined the chilling sound of the horns blaring across all of Whiterun.

                                                                              ~~XXX~~

The coin is flicked in the air, then falls back into my palm. Soon after, I smack it on the counter table.

"Ten heads in a row." Old Rob whistles when I draw my claw-like gauntlet-clad hand back, "Damn lucky son of a bitch, you are."

I chuckle at that and push the Septim towards him, "Guess the Gods want me to go through with it." Old Rob takes the coin with a rumbling hum.

He flicks it, it lands in his palm, then back on the table. Heads, again. "Seems like so." He muses before pulling back, his lone working eye flicking up towards me, "You sure you wanna do whatever it is that has left you hesitating so much?"

I shrug. All my previous confidence just evaporated when I left the College.

Kara had recently wake up again, and she stills that my plan is stupid, but worth taking a shot at.

Hildr doesn't want me to go through with it, too worried it might be too much.

So, when I started hesitating, I turned to the Gods. Ten heads in a row, and I'll go.

I did it. Five times in a row.

Honestly, this might just be Sheogorath bullying me because I have not offered him a wheel of cheese this past week. It is quite the rare delicacy here in Skyrim, after all.

"I must." I answer Old Rob's question, and he picks up a mug while another rumbling hum leaves him.

He wipes at the mug for a few quiet seconds before speaking up, "Want an old man's advice?" He speaks up, voice oddly gentle and void of the bark he always has.

I perk up and straighten my back before giving him a slow nod.

"Just do it." My shoulders sag, and he chuckles.

"Wow. My life has been changed." I flatly declare in utter 'awe', nearly getting a mug thrown at my masked face for my act.

Shaking his head with a smile, Old Rob lowers his gaze to the mug, "Many folks have a great many regrets in life." His voice is quiet, gentle, "Some resolve them before death. Some take them to the grave. Many die wondering on those possible 'What Ifs' and what could have been."

Slowly, he puts the polished mug down on the counter before me, "A great man once said 'I do it because it is the right thing to do, even if it costs me my life and honor. Even if I must carry this guilt for my whole lifetime, deep down I'll know that I've done the right thing.'"

His fingers grab the Septim coin off the counter top and flick it back in the air. He doesn't catch it.

"He then left." The coin falls inside the mug. It rattles around. "The war was won." It stops rattling.

"He never came back home." I look inside the mug.

Heads.

I look up at Old Rob. He knows.

I breathe in and pull back, "I'll bring him back home." I promise as I stand up, and Old Rob chuckles loudly.

"Tell him a barrel of the finest Nord Mead is waiting for him."

All the people in the tavern cheer, and I can't help but chuckle and shake my head as I leave.

Unbelievable. They all knew. They always have, and always did.

They just hid it. Kept it a secret from anyone and everyone outside of their descendants.

This loyalty… This cannot be faked. Loyalty so strong, so powerful, that it stands strong since the Merethic Era.

I couldn't help the chuckle that once more escapes me as I walk towards the exit of Winterhold. They've been testing me this whole time.

I find that to be… Nice. I like it. I love this loyalty. And I love this desire to help Deinmaar.

I still do not know what he has done, but whatever it is has them convinced that it won the war of the Merethic Era.

I feel like the answer is right before me, but it just keeps slipping between my fingers.

Doesn't matter. I'll find out soon enough.

It won't be peaceful. It won't be through talk. I'll need to punch some sense into the man, making him snap out of whatever depressive abyss he has locked himself into.

We'll come to blows, that is for sure. So I am glad that my gear made it here just in time. It gives me confidence, a great deal of it too.

It's an armored cloak with pants and boots, all forged out of Dragon Scales and bone plates.

The scales were fused together by using Stalhrim, the one I managed to buy through the Merchant Guild several months ago, before leaving Whiterun.

The hood was armored to protect the head, with bone plates and fangs shaped in a way to make it resemble a dragon's skull, the Stalhrim melted over it to give it all a brilliant near sky-blue look, standing out over the dark blue color of the robes, pants and boots.

The sleeves ended in thick, armored bone plate gauntlets resembling menacing claws that are quite sharp too, with the chest area also having quite a few bone plates to protect it, but having been left light so that it fits better as robes than thick and heavy armor.

The Stalhrim stands out, nearly glowing when attached to the robe, still not Enchanted because I haven't really learned much of it yet, and Kara obviously cannot waste Magicka to work on this.

And Farengar did not believe his skills were high enough to work on it either.

Still, it all is cool as fuck, and I love how it came out. I joked about never taking it off, but… Well, I really won't.

And finally, strapped to my back, is my sword. A sword without a blade.

I was very confused for a second when I first held it, until I saw the Stalhrim crystal lodged in the middle of the guard. With Frost Magic channeled through it, a blade will take shape, massively enhanced and strengthened by the Stalhrim crystal.

All in all, perfect gear for me that will further boost my already bullshit Frost Magic.

My thoughts come to a halt the moment my feet touch the ground of the cratered island, the temple entrance laying far ahead of me.

I release the claw of my Werevulture and send it back before breathing in and slowly walking towards the massive doors I've opened a great many times these past months.

I've spent many nights here, just reading books to Deinmaar, or telling him history, or telling him about my home, or about the people I care about.

I've probably talked his ear off. He probably enjoyed the company after all this time.

My hands rise and rest on the doors, and I mimic another deep breath before pushing them open enough for me to walk in.

Once done, I shut them close with a deep rumble, then turn towards Deinmaar's bound form, his head lowered like always.

My steps echo within the statue filled hallway as I approach, staring at his form illuminated by the light coming in from the circular hole in the ceiling.

Slowly, I come to a stop at the end of the hallway, quite a bit of a distance away from him.

Seconds flow by, and when after a minute passes in deep silence, Deinmaar finally lifts his head, the glowing golden chains stabbed into Reality itself rattling from his movement.

His bright red eyes meet my masked face, faint confusion within them. My shoulders sag lightly at the sight.

"An old man in Windhelm said that a barrel of fine mead is waiting for you." I state with a light chuckle, earning me a small tilt of the head from him, "And I promised him that I'd bring you home. Be it kicking or screaming."

His eyes slowly narrow, then close as a deep sigh flows out of him, the most noise I've heard him make so far.

"So… I apologize." I start, and Deinmaar… He nods. "But I am going to walk past you, and towards those stairs, unless you stand up and stop me."

His hands clench into trembling fists. The chain rattle and audibly strain against his flexing arms.

Then, after many months, Deinmaar finally speaks, "Must you force me?" His voice is deep. Powerful.

But kind. Warm. Gentle. Yet strained, filled with pain and sadness.

I lower my head, "I'm sorry."

He sighs deeply, "I know you are." His knees bend, and slowly, the towering Atmoran stands, a fortress of muscles and thick Dragonbone armor.

Now that he is standing tall, I can easily tell that he nearly reaches the three meters in height, and one of his arms alone is nearly the width of my body.

What did they feed this guy?

His hands clench around the golden chains, "I am sorry too." He states gently, before yanking- The chains snap and shatter with a near deafening roar, leaving them to fade into golden motes of light that drift away. "For what I must do."

Rolling his shoulders and making his bones snap and crack, then towering Atmoran then rolls his neck and reaches over to grab his immense greatsword stabbed into the ground.

It crackles with lightning as it is slowly yanked out of the ground, showing that even his weapon is nearly as big as me. And he is holding it with one hand.

"Whatever happens… No hard feelings." For the first time since I met the man, I hear Deinmaar chuckle softly.

"No hard feelings."

Well, now that he has said that-

A deafening crack rips through the air as Draconian Howl bursts out of my hand, a lone finger having snapped up to point at Deinmaar to send the blinding projectile fly-

His massive arm swings through the air and swats the Draconian Howl to the side, sending it ripping and shredding through the side of the temple, then smash into the distant wall of the crater-like island.

…

Huh.

I'm fucked, aren't I?

Yet, despite the sight of my strongest Spell that never failed me before being swatted to the side like its nothing… I'm actually feeling excited by this.

"That Spell…" Deinmaar speaks up, his head turned to stare at the destruction left behind by my Draconian Howl, "It is… Familiar."

I tilt my head at that.

"Konahrik used it too."

Okay… What?

A.N. Worked until the sun rose to deliver this chapter to y'all.

Things. Are. Heating. The. Fuck. Up.

The following next chapters are gonna be action packed, lore packed, and Deinmaar packed because I wanna write lots about him.

Y'all won't know the shit that is about to go down.

Am gonna try to write peak chapter after peak chapter.

Honestly, the rest of this Arc might not even match these series of chapters…

Hope y'all enjoy!

Toodles!

I, Draugr Chapter 33

"I am actually surprised that my father even thought about me once."

I take a seat beside the minute, curly haired ghost-woman. A seat that faces a deep fall into frigid waters below.

"It was just a remark that the Folium Discognitum recorded." I drawl out, kicking my legs a bit as I settle back.

In the privacy of the roof of the College, and away from prying eyes, I finally allowed myself to relax enough so to have a proper conversation with this woman whose existence has not been recorded anywhere.

There are mentions of the second Archmage of the College… But nothing that goes too deep into things. Not what she did for the College, what she taught, what her main Magic was- Nothing.

Then I gained the information through Aurelia's letters some time back, about this 'Lah' and about Kara. It left me with more questions than answers, honestly.

"Oh?" Kara perks up at my words, freckled nose scrunching up in distaste as she turns to gaze at me, "That is one too many for him."

I chuckle at that, "It was merely him making a statement about his wife leaving with his daughter. That's it." A cold bark of laughter leaves the minute freckled woman.

"The mere fact he even thought about that for a fraction of a second just baffles me." She snorts coldly, but soon shakes her head and sighs out deeply, "He cared more about losing that fucking island of his to the Mad One than my own birth."

Yeah, the lore never failed to show that Shalidor was… A shit man, to say the least. Forgot about his wife all to just focus on his Magicka studies, and now I can even add deadbeat father to the mix.

"It must suck for you, having to see many mages bow before the statue in the courtyard." Kara shrugs.

"When I presided over the College, I blew that bitch up." I cackle at that, and her own lips quirk up in amusement at the memory, "I don't know who the fuck put it back, but I'm shoving a meteor up their asshole."

Gods, I adore this woman already. "So then, what's up with this situation of yours?" I questions, mainly nodding towards her form.

Kara blinks, then looks down at herself, and I see the very moment that the 'little shit' energy enters her form. So she sighs deeply and sags her shoulders, "I know, being born beautiful and perfect is hard."

I just stare at her, "Your father's genetics, I presume?" The indignant squawk that comes out of her is pure music to my ears.

"I'll kick your fuckin' bony ass over the railing, don't tempt me!"

"I won't even get hurt."

"I just want to inconvenience you by making you swim back." She bares and snaps her teeth at me, reminding me so much of Gretel. These two would become best friends with just a glance.

"But to answer your question…" Straightening herself, Kara… Shrugs? "I kinda don't fuckin' know?"

Okay, what? "Magical fuck-up?"

"Eh… Maybe?"

I sigh and palm my masked face, "What exactly happened?"

Jumping up, Kara gets off the railing and starts walking. On air, right above the big drop with the ocean below. "For one, I am not a ghost." She states, a smirk on her lips, "This is actually an Astral Projection."

I tilt my head at that, "Then you are alive?"

Another shrug, "Eh… Maybe?" Again with that? What the fuck, woman...

"What exactly happened?"

"That's the thing; I don't remember." Kara huffs, pacing back and forth in the air, "Leaving my body to become an Astral Projection was easy for me. Hell, I made the Spell!"

"The last memory I had when I woke up stuck like this was me becoming an Astral Projection to…" She coughs, and suddenly her cheeks flush, "Well, do things to my husband, but we don't talk about that-"

"No no, go ahead." I cross my legs and steeple my hands above them as I straighten myself, now very interested, "I really want to know how a human woman shows a Dragon a good time. I am very interested."

Kara gives me a flat stare, "Them are the same fuckin' words Sanguine told me one time, ya know?" I couldn't help the surprised burst of laughter that erupts out of me at that reveal, "Had the guy outright grovel at my feet, wanting to know how to fuck a Dragon, 'cause he never fucked or got fucked by one before."

As expected of Sanguine, the God who sees a hole, and will fuck it without a second thought. Or he will become the hole, he is wild like that.

Still, I decide not to pry further. I don't want to make Kara uncomfortable, "So then, you became an Astral Projection, then… What?"

"Then… Darkness." Kara shrugs, looking confused and miffed, "I woke up around one-hundred years later, still as an Astral Projection, in the middle of the courtyard down there."

"No one could see me, and I had to restrain myself lest I fade away." She sighs deeply at that, looking thoroughly depressed, "I went through entire Eras with the only magic studies I could do being Theory. I am very displeased."

Yup, an adorable nerd. I like that. "Will you fade away if you use Magicka?" I probe, and she nods seriously.

"Our Magicka reserves recover fast, especially in such a Magicka rich area like the College, but as an Astral Projection?" She bites her lower lip, gaze distant for a short second before she speaks up once more, "The amount of Magicka I'd use to throw a fireball will be fully recovered in roughly three decades."

Jesus fuckin' Christ… "What about Lah? Shouldn't he be around?" At that, her gaze grows sad, and her eyes instantly redden.

"He should be…" She sighs deeply and walks back to sit beside me, "I've felt his presence throughout the years, all across Tamriel. With the limited amount of Magick at my disposal, even with my absurd reserves, I… I cannot contact him, lest I fade away in the process."

And she'll probably die for sure if her Astral Projection fades away, so it is better not to risk that.

I lean back with a hum, "What if I could help?" I ask, making her perk up, "Is there a way I could reach him for you? Or help you reach him, somehow?"

Kara's eyes sparkle with delight and happiness at that, and with the overflowing love of a wife that craves the presence of her husband, "By the Eight, I would be truly grateful."

I just chuckle and wave off her thanks, "Honestly, this also helps me. I… Kinda need some allies, if you will." Kara pauses at that, then gives me a thoroughly confused look.

"You feel so insanely strong to my senses. What might you need allies for?"

"The World-Eater." Kara's face pales, and she takes in a sharp intake of air.

"Fuck… He got out of its prison?" I nod, and she curses again under her breath, "When, exactly?"

"Roughly three months or so ago." I answer, then tilt my head when Kara sighs in relief and sags back, "Why?"

"The last time I felt my husband was four months ago." She states, and I get why she was afraid now, "I felt his Magicka surge for but a few moments before it went quiet again."

I hum at that, "Do you know what he is doing?"

She shakes her head, "He spent the entirety of the Second Era going around our research laboratories, then I felt him tear his way into Oblivion during the Third Era-" Did she just say 'Tear his way into Oblivion'?- "-and I've only felt his presence twice during this Era."

"So… No. I don't really know what exactly he is doing?" She then shrugs, "But that's basically Lah. That goofball was unable to focus on one thing for more than five damn seconds, yet he could also hyper-focus like no one else. Smart, handsome scaly son of a bitch-"

I tune out the gushing over her husband to just think about the possibility of there being a Dragon with ADHD out there.

A Dragon wielding the power of Autism… I hope to Akatosh there ain't one out there.

"Anyway… How do we contact him?"

At my question, Kara becomes a bit sheepish, "We can draw him back here, but… It might just be very, very dangerous."

It takes me just a second to realize what she plans to do, "I'm gonna be put into a lot of danger, aren't I?"

Kara chuckles nervously, "You'll very likely face a very, very furious Lah." Facing a furious Dragon literally called 'Magicka'. Yeah, how bad can that shit be?

"What exactly is the plan?"

With a hum, Kara points down to the waters below, "One of our labs is deep underground. I can feel that my body is there, sealed away. That seal is stopping me from getting it back."

I lean back in surprise, "Wait- Sealed? Did-" I pause, but I can see Kara's lips go thin as she realizes what my next words are going to be, "Did Lah seal you away…?"

The minute woman remains quiet, her gaze distant and lost, "...I think so." Gods, I have so many damn questions…

But I shake them all away, "So then, I break you out of your seal-"

"-Lah will feel it, and will come running back, ready to erase Skyrim off the map." She pauses, then tilts her head, "Maybe Tamriel too." Just how fuckin' powerful is this guy…?

"I presume it'll take time for you to wake up once out of the seal?" Kara nods, a very heavy frown on her face.

"I've been out of my body for a long time, hence regaining motor functions and carefully controlling my brain to make it so that the income of memories of nearly four entire Eras doesn't fry it completely… So yeah, I'll need time."

"Time I gotta buy by throwing hands against a very pissed off Dragon called 'Magicka'." I sight out, just a bit miffed.

Kara laughs and pats me on the shoulder, "Oh, silly boy." She shakes her head and gives me a gentle, kind look, "There is no 'fighting' when facing Lah. Just 'surviving'."

Yep, totally eager to face this guy.

"What if…" I start, and jab a thumb towards Deinmaar's 'prison'. "I were to recruit that guy?" Kara blinks, her eyes widening in realization.

"Deinmaar, huh?" She muses softly, gaze gentle, telling me that she managed to visit him too during her time, "Is he still being quiet and avoiding conversation?" I nod, and she sighs deeply, "Lah spoke highly and fondly of him."

Now, that is something I want to know about, "Can you tell me more about Deinmaar? I kinda want to try and help the guy out, but I can't if he won't let me."

A small hand cups her chin, "From what Lah told me… Deinmaar is loyal. Once he makes a promise, he'll stick to it no matter what. He has a strong sense of justice, and loves helping people."

"What about his Dragon?"

"Jill." Kara corrects me, surprising me a lot. "His Dragon was a Jill." Oh.

Oh damn. A Jill, female Dragon, usually known as the… Well, the better children of Akatosh.

Off the top of my head, I can remember that they have gone to war with the Hist, and that they usually fix the shit that Dragons cause.

"Thanks for the information…" I shake my head with a sigh. Gods, our conversation jumped from one topic to another very quickly.

"Okay, so… The course of action is to prepare before we try to draw Lah back." I start, turning around so to get off the railing, and Kara swiftly follows suit, "I presume you cannot approach your seal?"

Kara shakes her head, hopping forward before twirling around to face me, "I am bound to the College, and the laboratory is just a bit out of its bounds." I nod at that, and she puts her small hands on her hips, "Drawing my husband back shouldn't be a priority…"

Slowly, she turns her head to stare towards the mountain I froze, the one containing an army of Falmers within, ready to ravage the city as a whole. "But considering that Vulthuryol is showing his ugly mug again, bringing Lah back would be the right choice."

Vulthuryol… That's the name of the Dragon in Blackreach. My guess was right, then.

The mountain is indeed connected to Blackreach.

"Is he powerful?" I question Kara as I stop beside her, my gaze never leaving the frozen mountain in the distance.

Kara hums, as if mulling over my words, "Less powerful, more… Annoying." She clicks her tongue, obvious distaste on her face, "He found a way to weaponize his Immortality. It doesn't matter how you destroy him, his flesh body just reforms and grows back."

I hum at that, "So it heals fast, and now has an army of Falmers at its back and call."

"He is a powerful Necromancer." The minute freckled woman points out, "So make sure you destroy the bodies of the Falmers when they are slain, lest he just brings them back."

That's a good warning, and I am grateful for it. Terra Santa should be more than enough to handle that, though. "I presume you and this guy have history?"

Kara grunts at my question, "The fucker nearly killed me in the past. It is how me and Lah met." Turning around, the Astral woman lets out a dreamy sigh, "Vulthuryol hates Lah deeply, and we had to repel him several times throughout our relationship."

I turn to give the Archmage a look, "How did you get him to back off for so long then?"

Kara shrugs, "Me and Lah just stopped sandbagging." She then winches after saying that, "Ended up punching a hole all the way down to Blackreach during our scuffle… A hole I kinda hid by putting a mountain over it."

Slowly, I turn towards the frozen mountain. Then I turn back to Kara, who is just grinning at me, "No shit we are having a cockroach leak then if you left a big ass hole open, you dumb woman!"

A foot stomps on the ground as the Archmage screeches at me, "Listen, I did not want to lose access to Blackreach, okay?! That fuckin' place is so damn interesting and so damn rich in resources!" She throws her hands in the air at that, "No shit those dumb Dwemer got so mad at me for punching a hole down to their would-be home… Ain't seen one of 'em ugly fucks around in a long while though…"

"Probably because they deleted themselves from existence."

Kara blinks at me, then nods, "Yeah, that checks out." She shrugs, "I told 'em not to fuck with certain things, but oh well…"

I chuckle at that, "How rich in resources are we talking about?" My question earns me a very, very serious look from the minute woman.

"Enough to feed all of Tamriel for Eras." I freeze at that, "The Dwemer barely tapped into the resources Blackreach offered, and I am not talking about just minerals and ores. The very soil there helps Alchemy ingredients just grow so fast, and with such purity…"

Now that… That could help the preparations for the incoming invasion.

Alright, Vulthur-whatever, you gotta go. Get ready for a very painful anal experience, my boy.

"Alright, we need to make a list of things to do in order." Kara jumps, then nods in agreement as she floats up and around me, "First, I need to start preparing for Vulthuryol. But it is the same issue as preparing for Lah. I need things that will give me an edge, and that will further help me down the line."

Floating and twirling in the air, Kara hums softly as she cups her chin, "Good thing you have one of the best mages in history here to help you out then!" She grins down at me, but honestly? Having her as a teacher is a blessing that I am grateful for.

Between her and the Folium Discognitum, I can start learning things incredibly quickly and finally have more stuff to my arsenal.

Mainly, Enchanting and Scroll-Making.

"Speaking of good mages…" Kara turns to send a glance down towards the courtyard below, now mostly empty since lessons are over for the day, "I've watched each new generations of mages just grow worse and worse through the years…"

I tilt my head at her cruel but rather honest observation, "Does it anger?"

Her head turns towards me, and the look in her eyes surprises me, "It worries me." She stresses, face heavy, and eyes full of worry, "This is… It is not natural. Back in my day, even a new Mage would sometimes achieve a breakthrough once a year, or discover something grand… Yet these new recruits struggle to even put up a basic Ward."

The only thing I could do was shrug lightly, "Maybe everything has already been discovered, and the new mages just aren't as talented…" I honestly don't know what else to say, for I am a cheat among this group of people.

I get by easily, and even learning something that isn't through the use of the System and the Spell Slots is easy for me. Which… Weird, but alright.

"That's bullshit, and you know it." Kara flares her nostrils and floats closer, "There is no 'Everything' when it comes to Magic. The more we discover about it, the more doors become available to us. It is a path with infinite possibilities and branching paths that will have no end."

"Existence as a whole will come to an end before a Mage discovers everything about Magic."

I lean back and stare quietly at the floating, distressed freckled woman, "You think this is not natural?"

"If this is truly natural, I'll stop thinking about Magic for a week straight." Now that is a harsh punishment for a Magic geek such as her.

Still, I sigh lightly, "No use pondering on something that will yield no answer, but let us keep it in mind." But still… What could possibly affect the literal growth and intelligence of Mages throughout the years?

Clearly, the Merethic Era and First Era were the Golden Age of Magic, but then things started getting worse after then.

So what exactly happened during the First Era, or at the very end of it, that started the downhill progression of Magic discipline as a whole?

And what could affect it like so? The works of a Daedric Prince? But who would dare do something that could earn the ire of Prince of Knowledge? Hermaeus would absolutely loathe such a thing.

I shake away those thoughts for now, but I'll make sure to write such a thing in my notes. Honestly, this… It excites me. I've spent so long basically memorizing the lore of this world, yet now that I find myself in it and come to discover so much more that I did not know about… It delights me.

"Okay…" I start and breathe in while putting my hands on my hips, "I think I'm going to need a lot of paper and ink."

Kara merely grins eagerly, clearly happy to finally teach magic once more.

~~XXX~~

"So each symbol is its own element?"

"Yes." Kara nods, floating over my shoulder and tapping down on my notebook, "Daedric Runes are used to enhance an Enchantment. By adding a Fire Rune to a Fire Enchantment, its power will increase by a certain margin."

"And adding more makes it even stronger?"

"Yes, but consumption of Magicka also goes up. And the more Magicka it consumes, the more the Enchantment deteriorates."

I hum and lean back on my chair, "Are there no permanent Enchantments?" Kara nods, and I perk up at that.

Her small fingers jumps up to point at my face. Mainly, my mask. "Dragon Enchantments. They weave Reality itself into a weapon or tool, and it is permanent."

Huh… I guess there is a type of Enchanting that uses Dragon Words the same way with how there is the normal Chanting, and my Draconic Chant.

I write it down with a hum, but in another notebook. The one I am currently writing in is going to be sent to Farengar, so to hopefully have him better arm Whiterun due to all the gear it has recently started to pump out thanks to Aurelia's dragon-killing spree.

I'm sure he has many students he trusts and that are deeply loyal to Whiterun, so creating a group of Mages that follow the Enchanting teachings and tips of a Mage on par if not greater than Shalidor should do us very well.

"What about making Scrolls? How does that work?"

Kara floats down and sits on the other side of my desk, "That works on different principles than Enchanting. You see, Magic is all about weaving Reality, writing to it what you want to make and do. It is like a simple step to step guide."

"The Dragon Language is different, for it outright tells and orders Reality to this and that, skipping the many steps Magic carefully has to take and plan out."

With a hum, I consider her words for a short few seconds, "Then each Spell has its own Word, or Rune." Kara grins and snaps her fingers my way, basically telling me that I got it right. "How does one go about finding this Rune, then?"

The freckled woman sighs and leans back, "Now that's the difficult part for many." She states heavily, "You must… Well, for a lack of better word. You must look within."

Raising her hand, I watch her weave her Magicka in dozens of different Runes of all kinds of colors and elements. Fire, Ice, Electricity, Wind, Earth, Water- Each one a different Rune for a different Spell in her immense arsenal.

I tear my gaze away and lift my own gloved hand. A Draconian Howl rumbles to life in my palm, sparkling like a star and causing the air around it to quiver.

I cannot close my eyes and look within, as she said, but… I focus. I put all my focus on my Spell, and the way my Magicka flows towards it.

A follow the flow to the cent of my palm, where it weaves in millions of different ways. But it all follows a pattern, given tracks like circuits, as if Magic is just a big computer.

But it also isn't, for it is alive. Somewhat sentient.

I follow those patterns and circuits, creating a mental map of it all, and using my free hand to scribble it down over and over again. Until, finally, the Rune is written down, and I replicate it through letting my Magicka flow into that shape.

A glowing white symbol that I cannot even come close to describe or understands blooms into existence in the same spot where my Draconian Howl used to be.

It radiated incredible power, even greater that the Spell it came from. It felt more… Original, more pure. As if it didn't go through the many different steps that would have turned it into a Spell.

Still, I am thoroughly transfixed with the Rune, so many ideas flowing through my mind at the sight of it.

A Draconian Howl rumbles to life above the Rune, then several more Runes follow, creating a pattern around the Draconian Howl, a string of Magicka attaching each of them to the glittering Spell.

I feel the formation take shape, and whatever I've done causes the Draconian Howl to become a thousand times brighter and shake with enough force to make the whole room- No, this whole side of the College shake.

It woke me up from my trance, and I swiftly dispel the Spell and formation that granted it immense power.

Kara is watching me with great fascination, a smile slowly spreading across her face when I look back at her, "Now that is a Spell I've never seen before." She hums, her eyes glittering with a hunger for knowledge that could make other Mages wet their pants, "How did you manage to weave a Dragon Word into your Spell, I wonder?"

This goes to show just how bullshit smart and how great of a Mage she is. She saw right through my Draconian Howl with but a glance and could tell everything about it like I wrote it down for her. "Never did something like that in your life?"

Kara shakes her head, a glint of fascination in her eyes, "I created a Chanting that required Dragon Words, but never did I think about weaving them directly into the structure of a Spell." She cups her chin, gaze growing distant as she mulls over the Spell, "Lah would adore you. He was an even bigger Magic geek than me."

I chuckle at that, "He does sound like a wonderful Dragon to know. It is a refreshing change." Kara puffs up her chest in pride at that, even though I am complimenting her husband, not her.

"Either way…" Conjuring that Original Rune back in my hand, I study it for a short second before looking at Kara, "Is it possible to Enchant this into equipment?"

Much to my disappointment, Kara shakes her head, "Original Runes can only be woven into Magicka Crystals that go on top of a Magic Staff." I write that down too, but it is not a profitable route to follow for now.

Magicka Crystals are still incredibly rare, especially those of higher quality and purity. The better, the more rare, and the more they cost when sold through an auction.

"So I guess only elements and other esoteric Enchantments can be placed on equipment." I hum and lean back, then pause and if could, I'd blink in realization.

"What's wrong?" Kara questions when she notices me still.

"Just remembered something…" Moving my head to check my desk, I move through the many papers and books strewn around until I find the slip of paper I was looking for.

A drawing, to be exact. One sent to me by Farengar after I requested it. Finally, it'll finally become useful.

"Say, Kara…" I slap down the slip of paper showing a suit of spiky armor and weapons made out of Dragon bones and scales. The very gear that is now being given to the guards in Whiterun. "How would you like to make the best Enchantments possible for this gear?"

The Second Archmage of the College leans forward, eyes widening as she realizes what the gear is made out off, before an enormous grin spreads across her face, "Do you realize how good Dragon materials are when it comes to Enchanting them?"

I tilt my head at her question, a crazed light within her eyes, "They are so overflowing with Magicka even when dead, that any Enchantment placed on it becomes at least ten times stronger." Her grin gets downright feral, "You want the best Enchantments for this? Fine! Let's make some immortal sons of bitches, shall we?!"

I lift my hand and offer it to her, and she cackles as she gives me a very eager high-five, "What do you suggest?"

"Vampiric and Strength Enhancing Enchantments." Reaching over, she taps the weapons section, "The Vampiric Enchantments works best if placed on a weapon, as even a simple graze will sap away one's vitality."

I cross my arms with a hum, "Strength enhances work best if placed on the chest-place, I presume." Kara nods with a grin, "What about the helmet?"

"Fortify Impact." I tilt my head at the name of the Enchantment she just mentioned, "It is an Enchantment that dispels the majority of the force behind a blow, be it from a sharp weapon or blunt impact."

"The gauntlets – both of them – should have Fortify Stamina. Dragon Gear is naturally heavy, so mixing with with a Fortify Carry Weight makes one feel nimble and full of energy despite wearing incredibly heavy gear."

I nod, "So they'll hit hard, move fast, can get hit, and if they get hurt, they can heal… Holy shit."

Kara cackles, "My guy, this is just the first layer of Enchantments!" Oh right, the Double Enchantments, kinda forgot about them.

This world doesn't follow the game mechanics, as any Enchantment can be placed on any piece of gear, no matter what.

Placing a second one is more difficult of course, but thanks to the incredible guide I'll help Kara write out, Farengar will have no issues making such things.

"Then what do you have in mind?" My questions earns me another peal of crazed giggles from the nerdy Mage sitting on my desk.

"Fortify Speed on the boots, Fortify Stamina Regeneration on the chest-plate, Fortify Health Regeneration on the gauntlets, and finally, my Magnus Opus-"

"Chaos Resistance for the Helmet, and Chaos Damage on the weapons."

Okay, holy fuck, I can already envision how bullshit each soldier is going to be. They'll need to be careful who they hand this gear to, because they'll basically become one-man army soldiers.

But… This is needed. I am willing to put my trust in the Nords if they can be honorable and make the right choice just this once.

Though, I also do have a question, "Does it matter how big the Elemental Rune is?" Kara shakes her head, "So just how many times it is placed." Of course, it cannot be placed randomly around.

It all has to be connected a string of Magicka, and if one of these strings crosses another, then it'll all come undone. Sometimes in a rather explosive way.

But Original Runes, which come from the essence of the Spell, can magnify the power of said Spell by so many times that it baffles me. At least now I have a new trump card up my sleeve.

A 'Fuck everything in that general direction!' Spell. How lovely.

"Can I just use any type of paper to place the Original Rune on?" It kinda sounds like bullshit, because how can a simple slip of paper hold so much raw Magicka… But Kara nods with a shrug. "That makes no damn sense."

"I know right? Lah went crazy over that shit in the past. It got worse when he placed a Master Class Original Rune Spell on a feather… And it worked. My hubby started slamming his skull into a mountain right after." Yeah, I'm with Lah on this.

Magic is so weird that it makes me want to tear my hair out. Good thing I ain't got any!

"I'm gonna need a lot of paper…" But first, I better find the Original Rune about Terra Santa. That is the main Spell that I want to send back to Whiterun.

Before I could write down everything, I am interrupted by the door to my room opening. Hildr's striking figure steps in, stretching her back as she does so, making her curves stand out quite a bit.

She blinks when she notices me, but then smiles warmly, "So that's where you disappeared off to." The red-haired woman drawls out as she steps close, with Kara floating around her with a pout, clearly a bit sad that Hildr can't see her. "What are you up to, hm?"

I shrug, "Writing stuff down about Enchanting and Original Runes." Grabbing my notebook, I offer it to her, "You'll find this stuff about Original Runes quite lovely, and something that you'll find easy to master and weaponize."

With her insane control over Magicka, Hildr can surely use Original Runes even better than I ever could. Another tool in her arsenal that will massively boost her strength.

The more protected she is, the more at ease I will be.

"Original Runes?" Hildr parrots, raising a curious but interested brow, "Never heard of those, but they sound interesting." She grabs the offered notebook, but then scrunches up her nose. "I'll read it later. First, I want a warm bath."

I chuckle as she whirls around, tossing the notebook on her bed together with her shirt- I do a double take as I see the shape of her large, bare breast bounce around as she walks towards the bathroom, her thumbs hooking into her pants and-

I turn around to face the wall as Kara laughs and kicks her legs in the air, nearly wheezing and crying as I sigh deeply, only relaxing when I hear the door of the bathroom close shut.

"Damn woman…" She is doing this on purpose, I swear. I'm gonna drop ice cubes down her shirt when she least expects it.

"Oh, that girl wants you~!" Kara purrs in amusement, clearly having enjoyed that interaction, "You should use the Mind's Eye real quick. Trust me!" I give the floating woman a look, but she just winks at me with a thumbs up.

In the end, my dumbass does go through with it, and I use my Mind's Eye enough to peek into the bathroom.

Hildr's form takes shape in my mind, crouched on the ground right behind the closed door, and covering her face with her hands in clear embarrassment.

I sigh and palm my face, but if I could smile, I would.

Damn women and playing with my feelings...

~~XXX~~

The eyes of Jarl Balgruuf remain locked on his city, still thriving and brimming with life and activity even late in the afternoon.

And it would keep remaining active even at night. His people, wonderful and loyal to a fault, pushed themselves to help the city and him in turn.

Productivity was at a high never seen before, and the Merchant Guild was unwilling to lose access to Skyrim and what it has to offer, so he had received a great deal of help from them in turn.

It allowed him to stock up enough food to last them many years, worthy enough for a long siege in case the Dragons try to play a long game to tire them out.

As for the weapons, all of the best blacksmiths in Whiterun were working together, putting aside their differences to work at the Skyforge day and night to release masterwork after masterwork.

Weapons forged with blood, sweat and tears, and through the pure hardwork of people using materials that come from Dragons.

Materials that were coming from the Dragonborn, who was working harder than all of his people combined.

He could hear her battles even from Whiterun. The dying throes of countless Dragons being slain upon the Throat of the World, the sky being sundered and scorched by their battles at least a few times a week.

And then, each corpse would be delivered to his doorstep by a colossal Dragon that seemed to be working with the Dragonborn for some reason.

But it mattered little to him. That woman, new to Skyrim, was working hard and thinking of his city. Of his people.

And there was nothing he could do to repay all of her hard work. Her, and her friend, Leonidas.

He had recently received news of his Stalhrim shipment having arrived during the morning, and that the Blacksmiths had made it a priority, wishing to use it together with materials from slain Dragons to forge the best possible gear for the man.

All he could do now was watch over everything. Guide his people, but also rely on them. Many of them held better knowledge in a lot of fields he knew nothing about, and he cared not about the costs.

If he had to empty his treasury to ensure his city and people could stand and survive, then he'd do it without second thought.

"My Jarl." Irileth's voice reaches his ears, and Balgruuf allows himself to straighten his shoulders and back, "The General is here."

Balgruuf nods and turns around, leaving the balcony that faced the back of his city and the mountains that led to Dawnstar so to walk through the large halls of Dragonsreach.

Irileth stood behind him, relaxed yet ready, but also visibly tired. She had been teaching his new recruits, as his army had grown in size by a great deal due to many young men and women joining to protect their Hold and families.

Balgruuf was proud to have so many proper Nord brothers and sisters.

As his father used to say; "A Nord only has lived a fulfilling life when they die with a bloodied weapon in hand, a smile on their face, and a belly filled with proper Nord mead."

And then the old fart went and keeled over during a bathroom break. What a way to go.

Stepping within his throne room with a smile on his bearded face, Balgruuf did not head towards his throne, but instead towards the tall aged man boasting the thick embroidered Imperial Armor.

For this once, he was not meeting the man as a Jarl, but as a fellow brother in arms, for he and Tullius had shared many battlefields during the Great War. "Tullius, old friend." The Nord greeted his old friend by clasping his hand in a tight and strong grip, warm smiles on both of their faces. "I hope everything has been well in Solitude?"

"It could be better, but the Hold is working as hard as possible to reinforce itself." The old general muses, then grins when he nods back towards the entrance doors to Dragonsreach, "Not as hard as your people, though."

Balgruuf sighs deeply at that and moves, leading the way to enjoy a walk around his home with his old friend, "I've tried to make them take some rest days, but…"

"Let me guess, they told you to fuck off?"

"One drunk Nord walked in, called me a bitch, told me to fuck off, took a swig of his mead and then passed out right then and there." Tullius barks out a loud peal of laughter as Balgruuf shakes his head with a smile, "Irileth didn't know whether she should have been amused, or mad."

"Bah, that woman has to relax a bit!" Neither men had the guts to turn around and face said woman, of course. They could feel her eyes burn holes through their backs.

"Are you sure you wish to hold the Moot here, Balgruuf?" The General suddenly asks, and the Jarl nods without wasting time about thinking over such a thing.

"It is time we put a stop to this needless carnage between brothers and sisters of the Empire. Ulfric will be stopped, one way or the other." Of that, Balgruuf was sure off. "I am surprised you don't have a Thalmor tailing you, by the way."

At that, a strange expression crosses Tullius' face as he comes to a stop, "Say, old friend…" The General starts, brows furrowed, "Have you had any problems with Vampires, recently?"

Balgruuf furrows his brows at the strange question, and he swiftly turns his head to Irileth. The woman shakes her head in the negative, "None that I have been made aware of. Why do you ask?"

Tullius mulls over his words, then sighs deeply, "The Thalmor Embassy… Every Thalmor there was slaughtered, drained of their blood. The corpses were discovered in the morning of last Turdas. Elenwen and all the other High-Ranking Thalmor officials were dead."

Balgruuf sighs and rubs his temples, already feeling the wrath of the Thalmor that would soon descend upon Skyrim to find these Vampires and exterminate them.

Just with how Ulfric brought the damn Elves to Skyrim back with his fuck-up in Markarth, now the damn Vampires will make a literal army descend upon their land.

"The mountains near Solitude are soon going to be swarmed with Thalmor Agents…" Tullius sighs, then shrugs, "Hopefully, they slaughter each other as much as possible. It is time they are the ones that suffer a bit."

On that Balgruuf could agree, "What else do you need to tell me, my friend?" The Jarl asks, knowing that this was not a visit just for the two friends to enjoy a chat like in the past.

Tullius nods and comes to a halt in his steps once more, "The Moot will be held at the end of this month… And someone else will preside over it, due to Skyrim currently lacking a High King."

Balgruuf furrows his brows. His first thought was a possible ploy from Elisif to try and enrage Ulfric during the Moot, but Tullius looks… Worried. Anxious, even.

"Who will preside over the Moot?"

Tullius gulps, breathes in, then answers.

"The Emperor."

A.N. Time to suplex the Emperor and get a measly 20k gold- I mean, what?

Anyway, short chapter to show the kind of bullshit stuff Leo will learn from Kara.

Hope y'all enjoyed it!

The next chapter might take a while cause I got no idea what to do in it…

Either way, go check out QQ, cause I'm gonna drop a very cool thing there!

Toodles!

I, Draugr Chapter 32

Back on Earth, I would rarely feel the passage of time. I was always so distracted reading, gaming, or doing other things that by the time I came back into focus, the Sun had already set, and it was time for bed lest I fuck over my sleep schedule once more.

But now… Now that I am unable to sleep, and I am so thoroughly mentally exhausted, I feel each second go by with the speed of a snail.

It is… Vexatious. Tiring. Annoying. But I fight that exhaustion and annoyance with further distractions.

Luckily, the College boasts an immense library with what must be tens of thousands of books, and Urag Gro-Shub lets me hang around all night long as long as I treat the books properly.

And just like that, two months flew by. Very slowly, of course, but they did.

After Aurelia killed Rahgot, the Dragons kind-of retreated back. There were three attacks after that, with one being against Riften once more, but it was mostly a scare.

The Dragon flew by, set a patch of ground outside the city on fire, then flew away. It probably was afraid that Aurelia would come by and kill his ass.

Another one was actually against Windhelm, and came from the sea. A Dragon wielding Water Magic surfaced, destroyed two large merchant ships and killed the dozens of folks on board, then left.

The last one ended up with the Dragon getting killed. It attacked Markarth, and it ended up fucking around and finding out.

That place has a lot of Dwemer stuff hanging around… So the folks there pulled out some giant Dwemer ballistae, and put five arrows bigger than I am into the Dragon that attacked the place.

After seeing how effective those weapons are against the Dragons, I've seen them be commissioned and be stationed upon the walls and around the biggest buildings of each City.

Winterhold has been massively fortified in these past two months, and the letter I recently received from Farengar revealed that the same has happened to Whiterun.

Balgruuf did not hold back one bit in using every last bit of money he could to fortify his City and make it as Anti-Dragon as possible. Farengar did express regret in the fact that the civilians are being heavily taxed for this, and he expressed even more regret when no one complained.

A lot of young men and women had joined the army, with the Companions helping around with the training to prepare as many people as possible for what is to come, giving them greater chances to survive.

This is basically the calm before the storm. An attack is coming, and I can't say when. It irks me that all I can do is just wait and prepare.

Alduin needs as much death as possible to gain strength, so he clearly wishes to cause as much destruction as he can with this attack.

And I know that one thing is for certain, unfortunately.

One or more Holds are going to be razed to the ground in this attack. Because neither me or Aurelia can be everywhere to help.

Speaking of that wonderful woman; Her training apparently is growing harder.

In the past two months, she killed around forty Dragons on top of the Throat of the World, with their remains being sent to Whiterun by the titanic Dragon we fought outside Falkreath.

The letter I got from Faregar questioning me on why the fuck a giant Dragon just keeps on dropping Dragon remains at their doorstep made me cackle for a good few minutes.

Still, this is also helping them a lot. The Dragon scales are being used to make arrows that punch through even the hardest metal, and the bones are being used for weapons, armor, and the giant arrow ammunition for the ballistae.

With such equipment, Whiterun basically has the strongest army in Skyrim. I just wish all that gear could be properly Enchanted.

Hence, Aurelia is basically tiring herself out, challenging as many Dragons as she could so to make sure Whiterun has a great deal of materials. I just wish she could take better care of herself.

As for Hildr, she too experienced a great deal of growth in these past two months. So much so that I know for a fact the current Hildr can demolish Krosis with laughable ease, even if he were to use his Mask.

Honestly, that woman is terrifying. She is absurdly talented, learning and modifying Spells with laughable ease as long as she understands the 'how', and breaking the process into steps she can easily follow.

Her only problem are her small Magicka reserves, but she gets around that by modifying Novice Class Spells into overpowered bullshit like I did with my Magic Missile.

Honestly, I feel like this is my fault. She saw that it worked well with me, so she is copying my ways of using as little Magicka as possible to bring out the greatest potential of a Spell, and is excelling at it even better than me.

The simple Flame Novice Spell that releases a gentle stream of flames? Turned into a gargantuan beam of immense heat.

The Flame Dart Spell? Turned into a piercing projectile that while not as bullshit fast as my Draconian Howl, it is still close to breaching the Sound Barrier.

The Fireball Spell? It now is a big 'Fuck you and your surroundings' Spell. She either turns it into a beam of heat that cuts through anything, or into an explosion that puts even my Thermonuclear Werewolves to shame.

Spells of Expert and Master Class are still a bit beyond her. She tried using an Expert Class Spell once, but it basically drained her reserves in one go, so they are out of her reach for now.

It is a good thing that she gained Faralda's attention, because the woman is lavishing Hildr with all the teachings and information she may want or need.

Expert and Master Class Spells, for example, can only be studied if the Master of said School of Magic allows so. Hildr gained access to them after just a month, outclassing all of the other students.

I myself have access to the Master Class Frost Spells, but I haven't bothered learning them after giving them a cursory glance. I've been focused on… Other stuff.

A sound akin to glass shattering is soon followed by a scream of pain, then a curse as I sigh and snap my book close. "Rodnis, walk into Anodyne and take a short break." I call out sharply, causing the student to sulk and nod.

This was his fourth failure in the past hour, and it obviously irks at him. "Got any questions?" I tilt my head as he walks into the perpetually existing Anodyne Spell, the green sphere swiftly healing the tears across his arms and body in seconds.

The student, a young Nord from Windhelm that recently joined the College, sulks lightly before speaking up, "I do not know where I am going wrong. I have mastered Oak Flesh, yet… I fail to even properly activate Reinforcement."

I hum and let my gaze wander around the other dozens of students. Even the Hagraven cunt is among them, and is also thoroughly failing to activate the Spell I recently created.

Some are having a modicum of success, not knowing that I am merely treating them as guinea pigs before I send the Spell over to Faregar so to hopefully teach it to the army protecting Whiterun.

"Why do you think I requested you all master Oak Flesh first?" I question the student right back, making him furrow his blonde brows in confusion.

Luckily, he has a good head on his shoulders, and he mulls over the question for a few good seconds before answering, "...I do not know, sir."

I chuckle softly at that. At least he is honest. "The Spell I am teaching you all makes your body stronger. Tougher, faster, stronger- The Flesh Spells offer the same, but are easy to break."

Uncrossing my legs, I stand with a low sigh, "The reason I asked you all learn the Oak Flesh Spell first is so that you feel the effects it has on your body. Feel how it makes you stronger, faster and tougher… The take that, and replicate it without the Spell."

"That is the way to learn Reinforcement." The young Nord nods in understanding, "Now, do you know where you messed up?"

He sulks back down, "I overloaded the shield created by the Oak Flesh Spell around my body." He palms his face at that, so I pat his shoulder in comfort.

"Be more careful. I cannot heal you from instant death, after all." There have been some nasty accidents, like hands blowing up or fingers going 'pop', but nothing that a Master of Restoration Magic can't fix with a wave of her hand.

That woman is now getting so much respect thanks to all the work I am making for her, hilariously enough.

Still, teaching these folks really puts into perspective how utter bullshit talented Hildr is. These guys have shit control over their Magicka and harm themselves once or more times a day.

Hildr mastered Reinforcement in five seconds.

I am just using these students as a test to see if Hildr is just an outlier or if I can hope to teach this Spell to even folks that do focus on Magic.

I should really ask her to help me make a 'For babies' guide on how to learn this Spell, because Farengar is gonna need that to help the army learn it…

Of course, that is when the Hagraven bitch nearly blows up her end, and I do not bother hiding my snort. Of course, she glares bloody murder my way as she steps into Anodyne to heal herself, but I don't really care.

Reinforcement has come along nicely. A flow of Magicka through the body, mainly through the muscles and flesh and skin, that massively strengthens the body.

Tolfdir, the Master of Alteration of the College, told me that it was comparable to Iron Flesh in terms of strengthening, just minus the cost.

It takes a bit of concentration to keep active, but once one gets used to it, they can keep it active all day long without noticing it.

The strain is minimal, and the boost is massive, and it does not run the risk of draining one's Magicka completely since the cost is somehow even smaller than the Novice Class Flame Spell.

It is through creating this Spell that I was basically offered the chance to become a 'Professor' of the College, taking the title of Master Frost Mage from Faralda's suggestion.

It is quite the good position, and through it I've been subtly pushing towards the expedition to Saartharl with each meeting between teachers that goes by.

The excavation of the ruins has been going well, and some students have already been sent to clear the area of some Skeever and a few Draugr stragglers, but they are still at the outskirts of the immense city.

Savos Aren recently stationed himself there, mostly to set up a large barrier around the place meant to help keep Frost Trolls away since the excavation team got attacked five times in a week by those fucks.

Still, it was surprisingly easy to become a Professor at the College. I think the teachers suspect me of being some traveling Archmage from outside of Skyrim, as some have subtly questioned me about my past, and me being mysterious about everything just for fun makes them even more interested.

Apparently, creating a Spell out of nothing is some big feat. Especially such a powerful Alteration Spell, so I was granted the pleasure of becoming a Professor.

Faralda mainly suggested taking the Frost Magic Master title because Tolfdir is the current Alteration Master, and everyone loves the elder Mage in the College.

And honestly? I've only taken the position because it gives me some power in deciding some things, and pushing others. Otherwise I wouldn't have bothered.

I still find it amusing that they gave me such a position for Reinforcement of all things.

What would their reaction be to it's two Upgraded forms?

[Reinforcement]

Magicka is a power known to grant life. When woven the right way, it can heal the most fatal wounds with laughable ease.

And when weaponized, it can empower the body, making it tougher than majority of weaponry.

Modification: Boost Up! (3), Cost Down! (2)

(5/5)

This also taught me that I can lower the Magicka cost of a Spell through using an upgrade slot. Of course, I am only limited to doing it two times, but still… That is still lowering the cost of a Spell by half. Twice.

Another thing I also learned is that the upgrades I do to a Spell… They also appear for other people.

When I created Reinforcement, I shared it to Hildr right after. Then I upgraded it.

She learned the Spell, then when I Evolved it, she noticed that the Spell was a lot stronger than usual for some reason.

The Evolution only mattered to me, but Hildr now has the fully boosted and modified Reinforcement available. It surprised me a lot, honestly.

I learn more things about my System as time goes by.

Still, it is a good thing that the Evolution mattered only for me, because Hildr cannot handle the Evolutions that came after.

[Fortification]

From reinforcing, to fortifying. From a simple flow of Magicka, to a raging river.

A normal human cannot handle the immense strain created by this Spell that pushes their bodies to their very limit.

One's strength and defense are enormously enhanced, to levels only monsters may hope to match.

Modifications; Cost Down! (2) Boost up! (4) Defense Up! (4)

(10/10)

My previous Race Modifications made me less of a glass cannon, and this Spell makes me much harder to kill in one hit. A blessing.

And then, finally… The monster that is the third Evolution of Reinforcement.

[Juggernaut]

Unstoppable. Indomitable. Invincible.

A surge of immense Magicka of the wielder's attribute, cloaking them in dense armor of overwhelming strength, pushing their physical might to horrifying levels.

(Requires 0/1 Dragon Soul to Evolve further.)

Yep.

It's bullshit.

I already tested the insane boost it gives me, and I am frankly sure that I can tear a Dragon apart with my bare hands now. Well, the weaker ones… But still.

I cannot even imagine what horrifying level it will reach once I give it a Dragon Soul and Evolve it further.

Coming to the College was truly the right choice. It gave me access to a way for me to farm Souls without guilt, by simply sending me the way of bandit camps or areas with monsters like Frost Trolls or Ice Wraiths.

Like so, and with just some patience, I was able to swiftly gather enough Souls for me to Advance my Class once more.

And since my System kinda answer to my needs… I kinda manipulated the roll in my favor.

[Storm-Bringer]

A flick of the wrist, a clap of thunder. A target given, lightning strikes mercilessly.

The storm answers your call, leaving all its horrifying power at the tip of your fingers.

[0/1000 needed for the next Advancement]

[Destruction Path – Harbinger of Storms]

The indisputable strongest Element in existence, capable of disrupting and nullifying Magicka as a whole.

Those who wield this power are rare. Those who can properly use it are even rarer.

The new requirement for the next Advancement is utter bullshit… But something tells me that this is the last. Not definitive last, but the last Advancement that needs normal Souls.

I believe that soon, I'll need Dragon Souls to Advance further. Like how my Spells do after a while.

But I am not bothered. The enormous increase in strength this Advancement granted me is utter bullshit. I can't even tell by how much my Magicka reserves have grown even after countless days of testing.

Still, this Advancement unlocked two new Spell Slots for me to use and abuse, and one has been taken by the former Reinforcement and now Juggernaut.

The other one… Well, it started as a simple lightning strike, and then an 'oopsie daisy' happened, and I was left with-

[Vasavi Shakti]

A gargantuan spear of lightning, bearing all of its heat, speed and power.

It mercilessly strikes down upon the earth and its target, remaining lodged there and striking any and all trespassers with mighty lighting until its energies are spent.

(Requires 0/1 Dragon Soul to Evolve further.)

-this.

...I really shouldn't have been thinking about the Nasuverse Series while I was Evolving this bitch, but… Yeah.

I had my thoughts wander towards Fate/Apocrypha and how epic the entire thing was, and then boom, I got another Spell as bullshit as Draconian Howl in my hands.

Why do I always do this shit?!

Still… I can't wait to drop this bitch on a Dragon. I've been irking for one of them to come around and try me, but aside from some sightings, none have come to become Dragon Souls for my needs.

None have even tried to approach the temple with Deinmaar in it either, strangely enough.

Speaking off the chained-up man, I should really find another book since I finished the last one I was reading for him.

The guy still hasn't spoken one word, even when I tried to tickle him once because come on, I'm a little shit. But I don't mind that, honestly.

As long as he doesn't go psycho, I'm fine with just keeping him company every night or every other night, when I am not burying myself in the College library.

My hum and thoughts are interrupted when something shakes my body, with me having returned to my comfy chair that I dragged outside from Ancano's room.

Not the first one we stole from him, but the seventh one. Me and Hildr kept bullying the bitch until he spent all his money and now he sleeps in a shitty room in a shitty inn in Winterhold.

Where, of course, he is also served shitty food. All on purpose.

I turn my head to gaze at what moved me, and I pause when I notice that it is my second favorite redhead herself. Gretel is the first, of course.

I heard from Farengar's most recent letter that Gretel shanked a Stormcloak messenger five times then stomped on his nuts. Of course, these are all accusations from said messenger.

There were no witnesses, after all. Even at the market, before the Merchant Guild, during rush hour.

How strange.

"Ah, look who has come to grace me with her beauty!" I drawl out as I lean back, letting Hildr claim the right armrest of the comfy chair as she scoffs and blows out a strand of her hair out of her face.

These two months have been a blessing on her, because goddamn do I find it hard to keep my eyes away from her recently.

She's gotten taller, and a lot more full now that she dealt with her malnourishment issues. Her hair look more vibrant, her lone eye resembling a pool of liquid emerald, and her lips always holding that delightful smirk of hers that I find very sexy.

Redheads are dangerous, I tell ya.

She is curvier than Aurelia, that is for sure, and even a bit taller, and her tight-fitting clothing just make it all stand out, while Aurelia preferred hiding everything beneath her armor.

Tall heeled brown boots, form-fitting black leather pants, a brown belt, and a fluffy long-sleeved white button up shirt Enchanted to keep one warm in this cold, with several buttons undone to keep her cleavage visible.

Which… Noice.

Hildr's smirk grows – because she somehow knows when I am appreciating her figure – as she crosses her long legs, "What? Missed me?"

I shrug, "Didn't see you at all since yesterday, mostly because we must've missed each other." I had gone off to visit Deinmaar during the night, and Hildr woke up before I came back and left to do her own things.

Probably went to find an Horker to kill and sacrifice for Hircine, now that she is hunting for him again.

Hildr scrunches up her nose in annoyance at my words, "Yeah, it took a while to find that damn Ice Wraith that was reported on the road to Dawnstar." Yeah, those fucking things know how to hide. I know the pain.

With a scoff, the redhead throws her long wavy hair over her shoulder and leans close, dropping her elbow on my shoulder as she turns to gaze at my students. Some of the guys turn their heads away as soon as she looks over, which is hilarious, but understandable.

Hildr has basically started to turn heads wherever she goes, especially since now she has gained a lot more confidence, so she shows off what she knows she has.

"Anyone got Reinforcement down yet?" She questions, and I keep my gaze focused on my students despite boobies being visible just by glancing to the right.

Damn woman, doing this on purpose. I'ma tell Aurelia, and cause a fucking fuss to happen! Hmph!

"Nope, but they are getting better." Which is true. A lot less injuries are happening, after all. "Ancano did blow up his arm and left."

Hildr gasps and turns to me, "I missed that!?" I cackle at the pure fury on her face, "I was wondering what the fuck was up with all that blood there!"

Yeah, the dude didn't even bother cleaning up the mess he made. I wonder if Colette will even bother to help him regrow his arm back...

Shaking her head, Hildr sighs deeply in obvious regret, "Either way…" She starts and tilts her head towards me, "Wanna come into the city with me? A situation kinda rose up."

I lean my head back at that, "What's up?"

"You know how they have been digging into the side of the mountain for stuff?" Hildr asks, nodding her head towards the mountain that stands Winterhold between it and the ocean below. "Apparently, this morning they found a cave. Master Faralda sent some of the students in to check the area out when I came back, and I got curious."

A cave, huh? I doubt it is connected to Saarthal, but it might be worth checking out, as this place is known to have very good Magicka Stones laying around.

I still gotta find a good one for Farengar, after all.

"Yeah, why not." I shrug and grab the book I was reading to distract myself, "It's a date."

Hildr chokes on air and nearly falls on the ground from my surprise attack, which is super-effective.

"Like hell it is!"

Ah, good ol' bullying.

                                                                                   ~~XXX~~

A simple swing of a pickax brought down a massive wall of stone, revealing the dark tunnel beyond.

It led two ways, one forward and one twisted towards the right, with them being tall enough to allow a fully grown man to walk through as long as they watched their head.

The moment it was discovered, the miners called it in and ceased all work just to be safe, requesting the presence of the mages from the College just to be safe.

Frost Trolls were known for making cave tunnels their homes. Them and Ice Wraiths both… But also the Falmer.

The last of the three were like nightmares. Curses used to keep children in check, telling them to behave or a scary Falmer would drag them off in the night.

Because that happened far too often, no matter where in Skyrim. The Falmers were like roaches, too hard to kill or pin down.

A nest might be destroyed, but as long as one survived, it would just kidnap and rape more so to rebuild it. And they breed fast, the twisted cruelty within their bones coming to light as soon as they are children and find a chitin dagger placed in their hands.

Then it becomes their turn to pillage and kidnap and rape some more. A never-ending twisted cycle that the people of Skyrim must suffer through, despite their many tries to lead extermination missions against the stain upon their proud land.

Despite blind, they were still masters of Frost Magic and all kinds of weaponry, even bows. Their ears evolved enough to replace sight, enough so to allow them to dodge by hearing alone and hit their shots with ease.

The dark was their ally, and they knew that very well. Many Jarls tried to bright the fight to them. Many fell and lost many good men and women while doing so.

So when the dark tunnels appeared, the miners quarantined the area. The guards set up watch, and Faralda was the first to answer their call together with some of her students.

Soon, four Mages were sent to explore the tunnels. Two went to the right, and two down the other path.

Both were meant to simply go forward for a few minutes before turning back, just to check for any Falmer presence, obvious by their constant use of chitin-forged walls, statues or symbols placed around at random.

"Why the fuck did we volunteer for this again?" Among the four mages, the two that had been tasked with the right path were taking their sweet time, their legs taking seconds to take a step forward.

"Because it might help us gain more attention from Master Faralda." The older of the two, a tall Breton man, gruffly states, "You've seen how she has been focusing only on that new redhead chick, and we've barely gotten anything done these past months due to that."

As he talks, he lifts his arm up high, a large rumbling flame covering his whole hand, using it as a light to ward off the thick, eerie darkness ahead.

A scoff comes from behind, a much younger Breton teen being his partner for the task, "I fuckin' hate when teachers play favorites and forget about the others."

His older partner hums softly, eyes narrowed and focused on the dark path ahead, "I do too, but I can understand the why."

"You're defending her now?"

The older and taller Breton turns to glare back at his friend for a short second, "I am not." He bites out harshly and coldly, "I simply understand why. We take weeks if not months to learn something. Hildr instead? She takes seconds if not minutes or hours to do what we find taxing and hard. She is in a league of her own."

"And Master Faralda is the type of woman who yearns to have a student excel under her."

The young Breton grumbles softly beneath his breath, "She just got blessed with talent, is all… And that fucking bullshit Spirit." Both shudder at the thought of that flaming beast.

They had seen Hildr spar against Master Faralda countless times, and the sheer power that Fire Spirit wields nearly granted her a victory several times. And the gap between Master and Student was rapidly shrinking with each passing day.

"I'd still rather not put myself in so much danger just for Master Faralda's attention…" The older Breton man just sighs and shakes his head at the constant complain. Grumble and shuffle a lot too, for some reason.

"Let's just take a few more steps, then we can go back." He assures, and he takes the silence as answer enough.

That is, until his next step makes something clatter against the ground.

Looking down with narrowed eyes and using the light of his flame, the older Breton pauses when he sees… A pickax? "I thought the miners didn't come in here?" He questions aloud as he crouches down to pick the object up.

And it wasn't until it was up-close that he noticed that it wasn't made of metal and wood. But bone and chitin.

A chill goes down his spine at the realization, "Fuck, this is Falmer shit!" He drops it and stands, yet… Silence greets him. Turning around and raising his hand, he finds only darkness to greet him, his companion being nowhere to be seen. "Did that bastard fucking leave without me?!"

His nostrils flare, and he swears revenge as he turns to grab the pickax back as proof- Only to find himself face to face with someone else.

A pale face, squinted pale eyes, a sharp nose, chapped lips and wrinkles of malnutrition and age cover the face of the hunched over creature, the light of the flame in his hand making it appear ghastly and nightmarish.

The Breton's eyes widen in horror and realization, and his mouth opens in a scream.

A scream cut short when a chitin dagger plunges through his lower jaw, through his tongue, and into the roof of his mouth, lodging it shut and making the flame go out.

All that followed was but a wet, squelching sound of a blade cutting through flesh, and of blood dripping on the ground.

Outside of the tunnel, and far away from the excavation site, out of the boundaries of the quarantine zone, Faralda nervously nibbled on her nail as she tapped her foot on the ground.

The moment she had seen the cave, she had already regretted being the first to answer the call with her students.

The miners weren't nice people towards Mages, so had she requested the presence of a guard to be with her students they would have flipped and caused a ruckus.

And since they are the backbone of Winterhold, had they decided to stop working because of her simple request, the whole of Winterhold would have snapped at the College.

And with the relationship between the College and the City being already so strained – though recently it had grown a lot better, probably due to Leonidas's presence – she didn't wish to be the reason everything fell apart.

She should have waited for Leonidas, since Hildr had gone to pick him up for this issue.

He had a way with words, and a great deal of people in Winterhold liked the man a great deal despite being a Mage.

The stories from the bards about the way he fought against Dragons outside Whiterun helped, but what cemented in the fact was his unique personality.

He never put on airs, and always acted like a fool, and rarely brought out the wise part of him that made her and her other colleague believe the man is a wandering Archmage.

Tolfdir had also theorized that the man might be as old if not older than their current Archmage, Savos Aren. His knowledge of certain things… Faralda truly lusted for his mind.

To not speak about the horrifying ways of changing Spells he had taught to her newest and prized student, Hildr.

"They still haven't come out…" One of her other students states softly from behind her, her voice filled with dread and fear, and Faralda curses under her breath.

If she just lost four people because of the fucking miners, they were never going to live it down. Of that, she'll make sure.

A distant scream snaps her out of her hateful thoughts, her gaze moving past the gates marking the entry into the excavation sites, past all the discarded equipment and tents, and towards the rather small hole far into the distance.

From it, one of her students ran out as if being chased by a hound straight out of hell. Faralda couldn't see their face from such a distance, but she could tell that it was filled with pure horror and fear as they ran and stumbled- "It's the Falmers-!" The distant scream, dripping with terror, was cut off by a spear of ice shooting out from the dark tunnel and plunging straight through the chest of one of her students.

The corpse fell to the ground, and silence fell among the watching miners and guards.

Faralda was about to snap and scream at them all, but a flicker of movement from the tunnel makes the word die in her mouth.

A Falmer- Two- Dozens of them overflowed out like ants from their nest, all clad in thick chitin armor and wielding weapons made out of the same material.

"Fuck!" A guard curses loudly, swiftly drawing for his bow at the sight before them, "Call the guards and soldiers! Now-" His order is cut off by a loud, bone-chilling sound of a horn being blown.

A Falmer among the rapidly expanding group had blown the horn, and Faralda's hands were already ignited with roaring flames- But a 'Crack!' resounds, and her gaze snaps up.

Then widens in horror as she watches pieces of the mountain side fall down.

Opening after opening is punched open, swiftly numbering in the dozens if not hundred, with more joining the fray with each passing second.

And each opening has Falmers peeking out of them, bows and Magic at the ready.

Pure dread fills the onlooker before a scream tears through the air, "Get to fucking cover!" Faralda roars out just as arrows and Frost Spells started raining down upon the sleeping quarters of the miners.

Her own Spells were useless, as even if she hit the mark and made a fireball explode in one of the many beehive-like openings in the excavated mountain side, more Falmers would just take the place of the slain ones.

'How the fuck did so many Falmers get so close to the city!?' The Master of Destruction screams in her mind as she hurls Spells across the air, explosions and screams echoing all around her as javelins of Frost rain down all around her.

The realization hits her hard. It was the Miners. The constant excavation, all the noise… It basically led the Falmers to Winterhold, with both sides digging towards one another, and only one of them being aware of it and doing it on purpose.

More guards with bows gather, with the majority focusing fire on the gathering army overflowing out into the excavation site. After all, they'd need good aim to hit the Falmers within the holes in the side of the mountain.

While those Falmers can just randomly throw Spells, and they'll still hit something.

For a short second, Faralda considered unleashing a Master Class Spell. It'll drain her, but it'll also melt that side of the mountain and likely exterminate a great deal of the Falmers.

Yet, the loud reverberating sound of a bell ringing echoes across the city makes her pause, her body suddenly swelling with strength and energy.

A colossal lime-green sun appears high above the city, casting its radiance down upon it, and Faralda can see injuries heal almost instantly on the wounded around her.

Then a sharp whistle follows, and a good chunk of the mountain-side explodes. Then another whistle, then another- Faralda winches and covers her ears as the whistles become non-stop horrifying roars that shake the air and land below her.

Yet, her eyes remain wide as she watches the mountain side be pulverized by obscenely fast projectiles she can't even see or track.

The debris rain down, burying the gathered army of Falmers below it, and only then does the storm of projectiles stop.

"Master Faralda!" The High Elf woman turns her head at the call from a familiar voice, relief flooding her at the sight of Hildr's tall form approaching her with Leonidas in tow.

The masked and robed man lowers his outstretched hand, and Faralda feels a chill as she realizes he was the source of those attacks.

Such powerful Spells launched over and over, with no strain… He truly wasn't any normal Archmage.

"Thank the Gods you got here quickly…" Faralda sighs, allowing herself to relax as the situation was visibly handled, "That could have gotten bad." Her gaze flickers towards the powerful Spell still existing above the city.

Was that from Leonidas? Was he a Restoration Magic Master too?

"Evacuate the quarters." The robed and masked Mage orders a nearby guard, who doesn't even question him and just nods before rushing off with other guards in tow, "Be on guard, it's not over." Faralda jolts at that, and her gaze snaps towards the destroyed side of the mountain.

At first, she thought that Leonidas was just worrying too much, but as she focused, she could still hear the cracking. It was growing louder with each second, and soon more pieces of the mountain started falling.

From the middle, a massive crack started opening, nearly splitting the mountain in half.

Spells were clearly hammering against it from the other side, and Faralda tensed while Hildr cursed under their breath, "That sounds like a lot of them…"

Leonidas hums, stepping forward without care of fear, "There are a lot of them. Hundreds, if not thousands." The Master of Fire Magic pales at that.

"How did a Falmer nest grow so big…?" With so many extermination missions being led at least once a year, the Falmers should have never had the time to breed so much and gather so much manpower.

But that explained why they were so brazen as to attack a whole city directly…

"What do we do, Leo?" Hildr questions, looking tense yet relaxed with him present, "If they crack that massive thing open, we'll have an army on our hands."

Leonidas hums and cups his masked chin for a short few seconds, the enormous crack starting to grow bigger and bigger, the darkness beyond lit up by flashes of Frost Magic hammering against the dense stone from the other side to make it collapse faster.

"...There is something leading them." Leonidas suddenly states, and Hildr falters. Then, she turns towards Leonidas when he didn't say anything else after a while.

"Leo?" She speaks up, gently reaching out to shake the men despite his laser focus on the mountain.

"...It's nothing." Faralda doesn't buy that, but she decides to not press for answer just yet, "Either way, it is best that we stall them for now. We cannot blindly take them on, else we'd just be fighting a battle of attrition."

Faralda crosses her arms and furrows her brows, the enormous crack in the mountain growing bigger with each passing second. Another few minutes, and it'll probably fully reach the ground. "How do we stall them, though?"

Leonidas shrugs, "Like this." He states simply before swiping his arm across the air.

Temperatures plummets, and dense frost covers the whole of Winterhold as snow starts raining.

Faralda shivers, feeling cold like never before. One that even the warmth of her flames couldn't drive away, as it dug deep into her very being like a sickness.

And when she lifted her gaze, her stomach dropped.

"That'll buy us plenty of time." Leonidas states simply even as Faralda and Hildr both gape at the sight before them.

The entire mountain was frozen, encased in a thick, jagged layer of seemingly unbreakable ice.

"Leonidas…" Hildr starts, then gulps heavily, "What in the actual fuck."

The robed man comes to a pause and tilts his head in genuine confusion. "Did I do something wrong?"

Faralda wanted to scream.

                                                                        ~~XXX~~

"Apologies for the wait." I lean back as Savos Aren enters the large hall at a brisk pace, a stormy frown on his face, "I came back as fast as I could once I heard of the situation. How bad is it?" He questions sharply as he gets to his spot on the large round table that fills the room.

The room is nothing fancy, just a large hall meant for the Masters to use either to eat or read in peace, or for important meetings such as this.

I'm still surprised that Savos Aren allowed me to become a teacher when the position was offered to me.

Faralda stands to answer the question, so I push my thoughts aside, "It could have been much worse were it not for Leonidas's intervention." I tilt my head as Faralda nods my way with a grateful smile, "His Healing Spell kept the casualties beneath the dozen, and his Spell barrage stopped me from having to resort to a Master Class Spell to resolve the issue."

Savos Aren breathes heavily while the other teachers hiss at Faralda's words. Master Class Spells are basically city-wide Spells akin to Nuclear Weaponry.

Had Faralda used a Master Class Spell, she'd have molten the mountain, but also a portion of the City. She'd have racked up more casualties than the Falmers themselves.

"You have my thanks, Leonidas." Savos Aren states while looking directly my way, and… Wow, first time he has spoken to me. Finally. "But I believe the issue is not yet handled?"

I take the lead to answer this time with a shake of the head, "The mountain is hollow in the middle, and is full of Falmers." An overcharged Mind's Eye helped me swiftly check things out… And find out something worrying. "While a head-on confrontation against them would be heavily in our favor, something about the whole thing just irks me."

Ancano, from his spot behind Savos Aren, sneers heavily, "And how would you know that the mountain is hollow inside?"

I don't even deign to gaze towards the man, "Please think before opening your mouth. You make every living being this side of the planet dumber each time you speak." I chide him with a jovial tone, making him gnash his teeth before I refocus back on the Archmage, "Ever heard of the Mind's Eye?"

Savos Aren's eyes widen at that, "...Yes, I have. A rather dangerous yet ancient Spell. A Magicka Sense, of sorts." I nod, and he leans back and sits down while cupping his chin, "I see… But what irks you about the situation?"

"Everything." Is my instant and flat answer, "Falmers are known for their stealth tactics. They fight dirty, in the dark, never directly in an open confrontation unless forced it upon them."

"They could have used the tunnels as a way to tear through our numbers, weaponized them like they always do… Yet they threw it all away instantly, and revealed themselves openly."

"That is not a Falmer tactic." Especially their push to crack the mountain open so that they could flow out in force.

That just makes no damn sense… Until I overcharged the Mind's Eye and felt something that did make me worry a great deal.

The Archmage rubs his chin thoughtfully, "First, the area will need to be fortified. We cannot risk a barrage attack like the one I've been told off." He starts off, voice soft yet loud enough to carry across the table and its occupants, "Second, we must make sure that the mountain isn't their only nest."

Phinis Gestor sighs aloud, rubbing his fingers along the creases of his forehead, "How in the hell did a nest so big go unnoticed?"

I lean back with a hum, "Probably because they came from somewhere else." I drawl out, earning everyone's attention once more, "The Falmer have made Blackreach their home since the Dwemer disappeared, and Blackreach is connected to all sorts of caves all across Skyrim."

So it would stand to reason that one such cave and tunnel led to the inside of the mountain right beside Winterhold.

Though… I do lift my gaze when everyone is just gaping my way, "What?" Why are they staring at me like I am a lunatic despite having done nothing crazy just yet?

"B-Blackreach?" Faralda repeats, "T-That place… That's a legend… Right?" What?

"No, it isn't?" Pretty sure Hildr and Aurelia did not have such reactions when I mentioned the place in the past- A right, one isn't a native of Skyrim and the other was very secluded for a while. "I've been there quite a few times, after all."

Well, not in this life, but I went there often in the game. Confusing as fuck place with a shitty ass map, but still fun to explore.

"You've… Been to Blackreach?" Savos Aren asks, fighting against his jaw to not have it gape openly at me.

I slowly nod, "Yeah? There's an entry not even that far from the Wayward Pass. Hell, there's a lot of entries to Blackreach all over Skyrim." And a lot of caves with fucking Falmer in them.

Gods, the fucking jumpscares when I played in the dark and one of them just appear out of nowhere… Beating the shit outta them bare-handed was never satisfying enough.

Also, why am I surprised about their reactions? Mages never really travel that much, so of course they haven't visited Blackreach. Not that anyone should visit that shithole, but still…

Savos gulps loudly, before he shakes his head and recovers himself, "That aside… Warn the students, and please remain vigilant. For now, we shall wait and see how the situation develops first."

Fair. The Falmer won't be able to break through my ice nowhere near soon, so just waiting to see if they have any other holes available is the best option.

Collapsing the mountain on them is also one, but that could damage Winterhold too, so… Yeah. Less destructive option it is.

I watch the teachers file out of the room, with Ancano begrudgingly doing the same too after a sharp look from Savos Aren, and I tilt my head as when I see someone else in the room.

A young woman, short of stature, but with a face I can only describe as adorable. Bright blue eyes, freckled cheeks, and long, curly brown hair resting upon a fluffy and dark coat.

Is she a teacher too? I've seen her around quite a few times since I've been here… I thought she was a student, yet why was she in here?

I shake away those thoughts and focus back on Savos Aren, idly noting that the girl is still there, just observing us quietly, arms crossed before her as she leans by the wall of the door.

"Finally done avoiding me?" I jokingly start once the door closes, receiving a flat stare from the Archmage, "I couldn't resist picking at your trauma the moment I saw you. Apologies."

The Dunmer just stares at me for several long, quiet seconds before sighing deeply, "How do you even know about such a stain on my past?"

I shrug, "There is little I do not know." I reveal mysteriously, making the man's glowing eyes glint with curiosity, "Don't worry, I won't judge you for what happened in Labyrinthian."

That genuinely surprises Savos Aren, as he reels back in surprise, "You won't judge me about how I betrayed my last surviving friends to save my life?"

I tilt my head and stare at the man, and I realize that the guilt stops him from seeing the bigger picture. "Your 'betrayal' of your two friends very likely stopped one of the most powerful Dragon Priests with one of the most powerful Artifacts in existence in his hold from conquering Skyrim."

And that is the genuine truth. Because the Staff of Magnus, here, cannot be anything but utter bullshit.

And in the hands of a Dragon Priest, such a weapon just spells disaster.

The Archmage gulps heavily, then palms his face, looking as if he aged several centuries at my words, "Thank you… I… I needed to hear that." I nod lightly at his words, "And I apologize for avoiding you for so long."

I shake my head at that, "It's alright. Gave me time to… Calm down." Mostly because I am too fucking tired to even be an idiot. It has genuinely started to become taxing, but sometimes I still manage to do it, and it still helps me relax a great deal.

"Now, onto the more serious topic…" I lean forward with a sigh and rest my arms on the table, "The Falmers are being led by a Dragon."

Savos Aren stills before his back straightens and his gaze becomes heavy and serious, "The Mind's Eye?"

I nod, "At the very edge of it. I saw its wing, side and tail, and… Sometimes, a Dragon's size also means strength."

The Archmage breathes in through is nostrils, readying himself, "How bad is it?"

I clasp my gloved hands together before answering, "Just its wing alone was bigger than the biggest Dragon I've faced so far."

"...Fuck." Yes, 'fuck' indeed.

This sudden push and attack from the Falmers is probably a way for the Dragon to gain a foothold on Skyrim, yet making it so that it doesn't draw the attention of the Dragonborn.

Probably to save its strength? But for what? Or is it even hiding from Aurelia of all people?

"For now, we can only wait and see." The Archmage states heavily before standing, then throwing a light smile my way, "I'm sure we can pick a better time to talk more in-depth." I chuckle and nod, not really against picking at his brain despite having the knowledge of Shalidor himself at my fingertips.

Different types of opinions and views can help a lot, after all.

I stand as Savos takes his leave, and I turn my gaze back towards the young woman, "And who might you be?" I question, unable to help my curiosity. Especially since Savos did not even glance my way.

The girl perks up at my question, and her gaze flicks around before looking towards me. Then, very slowly, her eyes widen when she realizes that I am looking straight at her.

"Are you…" She starts, her voice sounding very cute and soft, almost like a faint whisper, "Are you talking to me?"

I tilt my head at her question, then cross my arms with a sigh, "Yes, I am talking to you." Her eyes widen even further, and I finally understand what is going on.

"You can see me?!" The very short young woman nearly shouts, visible delight on her face.

"Yes, I can." I sigh once more. Wait, delight? "Are you using Invisibility to sneak where you shouldn't?" If so, how the fuck can I see her?

My words, strangely enough, only evoke more delight from the young woman, who pounces forward with a near-squeal of giddiness, "Oh by the Eight and the Daedric Princes! You can see me!"

I uncross my arms, just… speechless at her reaction. "Could it be because you are an Undead? Or maybe the Dragon Priest Mask- No, Lah said that Krosis's mask had the power of Cold Flame, so that can't be it. Maybe a unique thing about Undead beings? Or your absurd growth? Your Magicka reserves did spike by more than ten times around a month ago, and you have more Magicka than that Savos brat, so maybe the reserves are the why you can see me-"

I take a step back as the young woman just starts talking non-stop, both shocking me at the fact that she knows about what I am, which I believe only Savos knows so far, and at the fact she knows about Krosis and his mask so well-

...Wait a fucking second… Lah?

Lah, the Great Sage. Aurelia told me about him, after Paarthurnax told her.

A Dragon feared for his perfect mastery over dozens of Shouts, and known to have a fascination with Magic.

How does she know that name?

"How do you know that name?" I cut the woman's rambling off with a sharp question, making her pause and stare up at me in confusion, "Lah. That name. Where did you learn of it?"

Wait… Wait, wait, wait… Her words were 'Lah said-'… Who the fuck is she-

"It's my husband's name?" The young woman states as if it is the most obvious thing in the world, before she slaps her own forehead with a curse, "Right, I have not introduced myself, apologies for my bad manners!"

Jumping back and smoothing out her dark robes, the young woman offers me a brilliant smile and her hand, "My name is Kara, it is a pleasure to meet you and finally be able to talk to someone after so many Eras!"

Kara… I've read that name before…

Yes, I have. In Shalidor's notes. He mentioned his wife leaving him… With his daughter, Kara.

"You're Shalidor's daughter…" She is the second Archmage of the College, Shalidor's successor…

And the woman who married a Dragon, and created the original Draconic Chant, together with the Chants that uses normal words.

Kara's smile turns sharp, a hint of disdain in her bright blue eyes.

"Yup. The one and only descendant of that piece of shit two-bit Mage and son of a fucking diseased Skeever fucked by a cockroach with-"

Okay, calm down, Satan.

...I like her already.

And why can I fucking see ghosts no one else can?!

A.N. Honestly, I had considered hinting at Kara's existence for a while.

Some mentions of Leonidas noticing a curly haired woman walking around, a mentions of a Kara in Shalidor's journal…

But then I feared none would notice it or question it, so I decided to go along with the surprise drop.

Lah and Kara are going to be very important characters down the line, and yes they are both AU, of course.

Also, they are some of the most OP motherfuckers I've ever created, not that it really counts since everyone is OP in this fic…

Either way, hope y'all enjoyed this chappy!

And hope y'all had a wonderful start to this New Year!

Lots of hugs to you all, to a hopeful better New Year!

Toodles!

I, Draugr chapter 31

It is rare that I find myself at a loss for words.

When one can't feel anything other than emotions, they focus on their own mind and just start thinking, and thinking, and thinking.

It is all I've been doing since I've appeared in this world.

Thinking about the challenges ahead. About the why I was sent here. About who sent me here. About the how.

Thinking on how then strength needed to survive is one that cannot be described.

Two of the strongest Dragon Priest fighting reshaped the land and cracked Skyrim apart, splitting a piece of it and sending it far into the ocean.

And that level of power won't allow me to survive.

I dare not imagine the level of strength Alduin wields, and I am wondering why he hasn't just started laying waste to the continents as a whole.

Is it because it bores him? Because he'd rather not waste his time? Because he'd rather aim straight for Sovngarde the moment it has an army that can stall for him?

The answer I came up with that is due to a certain line from the game that one may hear when they meet Ulfric in Sovngarde.

He regretted his actions, because only in Sovngarde he realized that all that death was making Alduin stronger.

So the reason behind Alduin's inaction is not that he does not want to, but because he can't.

He is too weak right now, likely weakened from his trip to time jail at the top of the Throat of the World. So now he won't waste strength uselessly beside when he tried to preemptively end Aurelia in Helgen, but failed for not having a clear target.

Hell, he doesn't even have to do anything, just let his army go around and cause chaos.

After all, I doubt he grows stronger from the deaths that happen only in Skyrim.

How many wars are going on? How many villages are being destroyed by crazed lunatics? How many bandits are slaughtering innocent caravans?

How much death is going on right now, and is all currently feeding the World-Eater, who just relies on Men and Mer nature to kill each others so to regain is strength?

All these thoughts are terrifying. Me and Alduin are similar, growing stronger from death, but we are also different.

He leads senseless slaughter to gain it, while I do not.

I am at a disadvantage. I will always be. One way or the other, I need to find a way to catch up. To hinder him.

Or, to make up for my shortcomings.

As much as I wish I could bear this burned all by myself, I know that I cannot. I am just one man, even if gifted with a rather busted power that can so easily be abused.

So, the only other way I could think of is to gather allies. Help people reach a level that even if they cannot stand toe to toe with Alduin, they can still hinder him.

Hildr… She is a stroke of luck. Aurelia hasn't noticed it, but I did after hanging around the red-haired woman for a while.

She is blessed with ungodly talent in Magicka.

Lacking in reserves she may be, but Hildr picks up Spells ten times faster than anyone else. I heard Faralda has instructed some of the current students at the College on a certain Spell for years now.

And I watched as Hildr broke the Spell down into her notebook as Faralda gave more tips to those students.

To not speak about how easily she manipulates her Magicka.

Finding someone like her is like finding a needle in a haystack, and funnily enough, I originally entertained the thought that maybe, ignoring how the game works, Hildr might be the one to become Archmage of the College in this world.

After all, the Dragonborn can't really become everything here. The duties would just pile up, plus they'd need to be masters in basically everything they do.

Hence why I am glad we met and befriended Hildr, even if it was by chance, and it was mainly done through a request from Hircine himself.

I need allies. Powerful allies. Powerful enough to stand against the strongest of the Dragons. Against their army and their Dragon Priests.

But they don't grow on trees. I cannot have the same luck I had when I found Hildr. And I refuse to find disposable people, treating them like tools to further my own survival or that of Aurelia and Hildr.

So, when I heard that story, I latched onto it.

The story of the Guardian, the man who by his lonesome helped Winterhold form. From a small settlement, to a massive city.

A man who is said to be capable of reshaping the land with his horrifying strength. A man feared by Dragons and their servants both.

Of course, stories are usually very overblown. The feats inside them can be scaled to however much the fanboy sharing the story wants them to.

But there is always a modicum of truth in these stories.

For one, the Guardian does exist. That much I can confirm now.

The rest, like questions about his allegiance and the likes? Those I cannot confirm.

I stare into the brilliant red eyes staring back at me silently, no words spoken after my greeting as the massive man simply lays there.

Knelt on the floor, and bound in glowing golden chains stabbed into the air.

The majority of the Magicka that disrupts my Mind's Eye is coming from those very chains, telling me that whoever made them holds a horrifying level of power.

But I doubt that the Magicka coming from the chains is what causing the people that approach the area to shrink back in fear or have heart-attacks.

And I doubt it's the man before me too.

Deinmaar. It means Guardian, if translated from the Dragon Language.

Is he a Dragon Priest? He wears a Mask beneath his dragon-skull shaped helmet, after all. And one of the marks on the map gained from Bleak Falls Barrow did have a mark here.

My faint hopes do crumble a bit at the sight, but this does not confirm his allegiance.

After all, why would he be chained here, instead of simply buried like all the other Dragon Priests?

This feels more like a punishment.

Plus… He is alive. He is flesh and blood, with a working heart and body. This makes no sense.

How is he alive? How has he survived with no sustenance since the Merethic Era? Is it the power of his Mask, or something else?

So many questions, and no answers.

"Not much of a talker, are we?" I muse while tilting my head, a low sigh escaping me, "I'm not Krosis, in case you knew the guy." I tap my Mask, visible beneath my hood, "I killed him some time back and stole it for my own."

No reaction, but his eyes do follow me with each movement. Never blinking or faltering.

My shoulders slump slightly, and I let my gaze rove around, "Why are you trapped here?" No answer.

"Who did this to you?" Nothing.

"What is this place?" More nothing.

I sigh again, then stand up, but his head doesn't move to keep staring at me, it remains bowed low, like it was when I entered the place.

The circular room he is trapped in… Other than the artwork on the floor – which is covered in dust and cannot read – there is nothing else here.

Other than the set of stairs going down behind Deinmaar, of course.

I step around his form to go towards them, and finally there is a reaction from him.

His relaxed hands clench into fists.

I ignore the reaction and take a step past him. His arms start shaking.

A few more steps forward, and the golden chains start creaking loudly.

I come to a halt with a loud sigh, "You don't want me to go down those stairs." It is not a question.

I turn my head, the rattling and shaking of the glowing golden chains echoing loudly in the empty room.

That's… not anger. No, it's that and something else.

Shame.

What did you do, Deinmaar?

I sigh again, and throw a look down towards the stairs, the darkness coming from them seemingly calling towards me, my curiosity piqued.

"If you don't want me to go down those stairs…" I start, and turn back towards Deinmaar, "Then just open your hands."

The rattling of the chains stop, as if he is surprised by my request, so silence once more filled the hall.

Then, in the silence, I watch as both of his hands slowly relax and open.

If I could smile, I would right now. But I just let out a chuckle and start moving back towards Deinmaar, "Very well."

I stop in front of him and drop down on my ass, his eyes now slightly wide in faint surprise and confusion as they stare at me, "I'm curious, but I won't push it." I shrug, then turn my gaze back to his chain, "That did answer one of my questions though."

"You can break these chains whenever you want, can't you?"

Of course, I do not really receive a response, but I do not need to. I lean back with a hum, crossing my arms before my chest as I mull over what to do, "You must've been lonely."

I don't dare imagine what it must've felt like for him. Thousands of years just chained up here, with probably no visitors.

"We are two-hundred years into the Fourth Era." I start, then lean forward once more while cupping my hands together and gathering my Magicka. Time for a test, "And Alduin is back to finish the job."

Deinmaar's eyes widen slightly, before being tightly shut as a deep sigh comes from him.

Is that remorse? Sadness? I can't read him well through only his eyes.

Had he tried to break the chains after hearing that, I'd have poured all of my Magicka into a Draconian Howl to obliterate him on the spot.

But this… This shows that his allegiance isn't fully with the Dragons. I'll keep my guard up still, but I shall also hold some hopes.

Hopes that this man is everything the people of Winterhold believe he is, and not a mere servant of the Dragons.

"Winterhold still stands, too." His head perks up at that, "They call you 'The Guardian'. I'm sure you are the guy that helped the city form and stand on its own two feet." He stares at me for a bit, before bowing his head.

Again, if I could smile, I would. He is thanking me for the information.

"Man, you missed a lot of things since the Merethic Era." I chuckle to myself, "For one, the Dwemer deleted themselves from existence." His head shoots up at that, eyes wide, "No, I ain't joking. They really did."

The sheer confusion in his eyes is amusing. He isn't talking, but I doubt it is because he is mute.

Oh well, I'll get him to talk with time.

"Let's see, what else… Ah, two people ascended to Godhood. One is an Imperial man now known as Talos, and another is a dude that… had sex Molag Bal and had some kind of spiritual awakening or something. Weird shit."

"Mehrunes Dagon tried to invade Nirn during the previous Era but got his shit kicked in by Akatosh."

I just sat there for what must've been an hour or so, just sharing events that I could remember off the top of my head to Deinmaar, catching him up with everything and… Well, amusing myself with the weird and shocked and sheer confused looks he kept throwing my way with each event I kept sharing.

"And, most recent of all, Alduin came back, Krosis woke up and got killed by me and a friend after he tried to destroy a city, and well… Now we're here." I slump with my shoulders, then tilt my head towards Deinmaar, "Now, do I gotta tickle you to make you talk, or what?"

His right hand clenches into a fist, and his eyes deadpan into a 'Try me, bitch.' look that I really wanna challenge.

In the end, I must relent, but I do wave my fist his way, "You're lucky that I gotta go now. I've spent too much time here, and a dear friend must be worried sick now." I sigh and stand, patting away the dust on my robes.

"I'll come back to visit." I tell him, because honestly… I do not wish to leave him alone any longer than he already has. "Every night."

At least I'll have something to do beside being alone with my own thoughts in a dark room.

Deinmaar's head lowers, not reacting to my promise as I turn around.

This simple act, after all, may be the one thing that stops him from joining the side of the Dragons once more.

I shake away those thoughts and walk down the hallway filled with Dragon Priest statues, all staring down at me as I walk past their broken and still forms.

I stop by the doors and turn my head to look back towards the chained giant, his head now lifted to stare towards me.

With a nod, I step outside and let out a heavy breath, my gaze flicking towards Marius's massive form, leaning against the wall to the right of the giant doors.

"Sorry for the wait." The Minotaur shakes his head and straightens himself as I let the werewolves hanging around go back.

"It was not a problem, Ser Leonidas. The area is clear, and only this temple stands within this crater." Marius reassures me, his head moving to take in the imposing building. "Have you gained the answers you were seeking?"

I hum softly, "No. Just more questions." This feeling of Deja-Vu, this nostalgia creeping up at me… It confuses me a lot, more than I already am.

Before I send Marius back, I throw the doors one last gaze, "Say, Marius… What do you make of the murals on the doors?"

The Minotaur's gaze moves to said murals, his eyes narrowing faintly, "Rituals the Dragons used to recruit servants. To recruit Dragon Priests."

I hum again, glad that he sees the same thing I do.

The doors are enormous, and the murals aren't that big. On both doors, there are at least hundreds of these murals depicting these scenes.

All these events that allowed one to become a Dragon Priest.

But if there are so many ways for a nobody to elevated to the rank of Dragon Priest…

Why the fuck are there only a dozen of them in Skyrim?

                                                                               ~~XXX~~

Hildr is suddenly startled awake by loud, metallic bangs that echoed in the large room a kind Thalmor gifted her after she helped him discover how nice fire feels on his flesh.

Her lone eye widen in panic as she jumps up in her bed, ready to set whatever has disturbed her sleep on fire from the inside out-

"Wakey wakey!" Leonidas hollers while smashing two pans – she could already tell the fucker stole them from the goddamn kitchen – together, "Wake the fuck up, Samurai! We got a city to burn!"

Her panic dies down and is replaced by cold, rage and exasperation, "Leo…" She starts, dragging a hand along her face as she breathes in deeply, "What in the actual fuck?"

The robed skeleton huffs and puts his arms on his waists, "Watch your fuckin' language!" He chides her, earning himself a near murderous glare, "Giddy up, we're going for a run."

Hildr blinks, completely stumped as Leo throws the pans aside without care, "...What?"

"We are going on a run!" He repeats, voice jovial, "Time to put some meat and muscles on those bones!" What's wrong with her current body?

...Right, she's still too underweight, but she is slowly fixing that issue.

"May I ask why, at least?" She sighs out, giving up on going back to sleep as she throws her legs over the large comfy bed, uncaring that she is wearing nothing but a long shirt.

Damn Ancano literally had sheets enchanted to be warm and super comfy. Using those made Hildr have the best naps and sleep she could have imagined.

"...I've had some time to think since yesterday." Leonidas answers after a while, having flipped around the moment he took notice of her state of undress.

A part of her wanted to tease him, but she feared that he'd easily flip the situation around.

The guy had Aurelia salivating over him, after all. She wasn't blind to the looks the Dragonborn used to throw towards Leonidas whenever he wasn't paying attention.

And to be honest? Hildr highly doubted she'd be able to resist if Leonidas were to push advances her way.

Never before did she see someone get along so perfectly with her little sister. Never. Not even her Gradma was able to fully handle the small bundle of pure feral energy and violence.

Yet Leonidas did not struggle one bit. He matched her energy, and even overwhelmed Gretel, to the point that Gretel looked up at him.

Seeing her sister so happy to have someone that understands and matches her energy… It warmed Hildr's heart far easier than any flame could.

Hildr found it hilarious. How the most charming part of Leonidas is how genuine he is in everything he does. Especially the craziness he unleashes upon any poor victim he encounters.

So, despite known what is beneath those robes and that Mask… Hildr cannot fault herself for feeling a small bit – quite a bit – of affection for the foolish Undead.

"Things never end well when you think." Leonidas snorts, though Hildr frowns minutely as she stares at his back.

It has been a while since he caused chaos or did his usual 'tomfoolery'.

She didn't like this sudden quiet form him. Not because she didn't want to see what sort of chaos he was going to unleash, but because she feared for his mental health.

She had to inquire the College's teachers about any field trip for studies that are approaching. If it'll take too long, she just has to convince Leonidas and Aurelia to lead the way to Saarthal and go there post-haste.

"Harmless fun, I assure you." Hildr snorts this time at Leonidas's words. Yeah, 'harmless'. Only Sheogorath would believe that excuse.

"Yeah, nobody believes you." Throwing her hair over her shoulder, Hildr fixes her pants, then swaps her shirt for a much heavier one. Of course, she does not forget the gloves, for she does not wish to lose her fingers to the nasty cold outside. "So, what's this about?"

Turning around, she fixes her eyepatch before running a hand through her wild hair. She'll brush them later. Much later.

"Several things, really." Leonidas starts, flipping around – and Hildr squashes down the self-consciousness that hopes he likes what he sees – and sighing heavily while crossing his arms. "But first, your physique."

"I have plans for a Spell that can strengthen the body far better than Flesh Type Alteration Spells could, but it'll take a while to get it down." The robed Undead reveals, speaking about making Spells like it is second nature for him. And Hildr actively believed him.

After all, he is the man that turned a children's Spell into a Dragon Slaying weapon of unquestionable power.

"But it'll be a crutch, and it'll also actively enhance what is already there, and I am sure it'll also heavily strain the body."

"So I need to build muscles to better handle that strain." Hildr concludes, her lone eye narrowing slightly in realization, "Setting a foundation for this Spell of yours."

Leonidas nods and snaps his fingers towards her, "That, and I do not want you to be a glass cannon and have no stamina in case you need to run." That was a fair concern from him.

One that did warm her heart quite a bit. The fact that he worries about her and her safety is… nice.

"This is going to take a while…" Hildr sighs, but Leonidas chuckles.

"Oh no, it won't take long." A lone brow rises up at his words, "I'll abuse Healing Magic. Growing stronger means tearing your muscles apart, then letting them heal so that they grow stronger. But the body heals slowly… Magic heals near-instantly."

He gives her a big thumbs up, "You'll be a fit and proper beauty in a month or two. Trust me!"

Her lips rise out of sheer amusement, but she did believe the robed fool before her. "If I'm going through this hell, then I want you to coach me on magic."

"Foolish of you to think I wasn't planning on doing that too."

Hildr's smile falls, and her eye widens in horror. "I'm going to have a horrible time, aren't I?"

"Yes. Yes, you will." Hildr's stomach drops, then Leo drops another horrid bomb on her, "Hircine approves, by the way."

Her God has forsaken her to the madness too now…

"Now! Training montage time!"

"Fuck my life…"

                                                                                ~~XXX~~

"Think of a big black man chasing you!"

Leonidas 'cheered' from the side, encouraging her to run faster, and to keep on running despite her lack of breath.

He, of course, lacking a body, was just hopping along, swinging his arms side to side while keeping up with her with laughable ease.

"I- fuckin'- hate- you-…" Hildr curses out in-between each gasped breath, her legs feeling like they were made of lead, and her chest feeling both cold and hot at the same time.

The people of Winterhold threw confused glances their way as Hildr ran past them, but she felt too tired and too heavy to even care about any stares or words directed their way.

"Bah, you look like you're out of breath! Just breathe, dummy!" Oh, she's going to give this fucker a body back then shove a fireball down his throat.

"Let me tell you about the time Keith tried to deep-fry a turkey." The robed, damnable Undead speaks up as he runs along a bit behind her, "Third-degree burns over ninety-percent of his body-"

An inhuman screech erupts from behind her, and Hildr's lone eye widens when she sees Leonidas fly above her head and launch himself towards a Khajiit wearing the robes of the college.

He did mention wanting to find and murder a Khajiit in the College for 'Explosive Anti-Undead Spells' some time ago…

Hildr considers stopping the assault as she hears the vile curses and insults and sees Leonidas use the poor Khajiit as a weapon, swinging him around while hollering…

But instead she shrugs and keeps on running.

The Khajiit's sacrifice to keep Leonidas away from her for a while won't be forgotten.

                                                                                  ~~XXX~~

"I'm not even that good…" Leonidas whines in a very annoying, child-like voice to mock her while she sits on the ground, head lowered. "The desire to create a frozen hammer and break it on your skull is strong, woman."

Hildr does not pout at Leo. She just glares murderously at him.

"You stupid sandwitch." The robed Undead sniffs, and Hildr pauses at the weird insult that made no sense, "Gods, I am so mad right now!" He huffs and stomps the ground, then freezes, "I'm gonna tickle the fuck outta you."

"Don't you fucking dare!" Hildr screeches, crawling back with pure horror on her face, flames bursting out from her hands and feat as she nearly calls her Spirit out to defend her.

Leonidas menacingly points a trembling finger towards her, looking very expressive despite wearing a mask, "I will go and grab Gretel, bring her back here, load her with coffee and sugar, then lock you in a room with her."

"You monster…"

Finally, Leonidas relents and leans back, sighing deeply while crossing his arms, "Do you know how many Chants our fellow students can do at most?"

Hildr gulps at his question, "No…?" She did not fully pay attention to the lesson about Chants, just that they were powerful and useful. And the book about it she found in Ancano's room – his own research notes – held mostly the best Chants to use for which element.

"Two. Or three, at most." Leonidas reveals, voice flat, and Hildr's eyes widen, "You got to six on your first try, Hildr."

His robed form approaches and squats down in front of her before her shocked gaze, "I don't think you realize how bullshit your Magicka control is."

The training room they were in falls silent after that, and her heavy gulp nearly echoes in the air as she straightens herself. "I-I thought it was normal…?"

Leonidas sighs deeply and shakes his head, "I forgot you haven't really been outside Falkreath until recently…" He drawls out before straightening himself, "Still… This is probably your greatest weapon. One you must hold dear."

"I haven't done many tests with them just yet…" Hildr reveals lightly, earning a nod from Leonidas.

"We'll have to check and quantify the power increase after each Chant, but we can do that another time." He waves the idea to the side before standing tall and offering her his gloved hand, "Come on, let me teach you something."

She takes his hand with a smile and rises up, and Leonidas nods towards the other end of his room, "Let's make your own bullshit Magic Missile, how about it?" Hildr could hear the massive grin in his voice, and she couldn't help it… She grinned right back, the thought exciting her a great deal.

"Now, my Magic Missile is as bullshit as it is for two reasons. Speed, and Kinetic Force." Leonidas starts explaining as he lifts her arms up, aiming them towards the other end of the training room, "With you, we'll focus on pure firepower. No speed."

Hildr tilts her head curiously at that. She had questions about this 'Kinetic Force' thing, but she held them back, instead she asked something else, "Why no speed?"

Leonidas snaps his fingers towards her, "You can control your flames even when they are far away from you, can't you?" Hildr blinks at that, then nods.

"I fuel them with my Magicka, so yes." It was also the way she used to call out her Spirit. Her original idea was to create a fire near an opponent, then have her Spirit come out from said fire to catch them off-guard.

"So why focus on speed when you can unleash the Spell directly on your target?" Leonidas points out, and Hildr grins a nearly savage grin.

With his instruction, she releases a massive wave of flames that fills the other side of the training room.

"What do I do now?" She questions, and Leonidas leans back nonchalantly.

"Now? Now you condense all those flames into a sphere, and keep compressing that sphere more and more." Hildr blinks at his instruction, then narrows her lone eye as she sticks with it.

The crackling flames followed her command with ease, all of them sliding across the floor and towards the center of their miniature conflagration.

There, a small wisp of flames rose up and started gathering itself into a head-sized sphere.

The more flames she poured into the sphere, the smaller she squeezed it, sweat starting to form on her brows once the sphere of flames became smaller than her fist.

Yet, she noticed it. The air trembling and warping around it, the heat of it growing stronger and stronger the more she compressed it.

"Have it suck in oxygen." Leonidas adds another instruction suddenly, and Hildr follows suit without a second of hesitation.

The roar that follows suit surprises her as she watches a storm of air rush towards the now brightly glowing white-gold sphere, which she kept squeezing and squeezing more and more until- "This is as much as I can, Leo!"

Her voice is strained as she glares towards the sphere, now the size of a baby's fist, the heat radiating from it now downright horrifying as more and more oxygen rushed into it.

The glow had also become near blinding, leaving spots in her eye, and even closing it did not help her much.

Lifting a hand, Leonidas conjures an enormous Ward between them and the trembling and whistling sphere, the sound being akin to a quiet but very sharp, hurtful to listen whistle.

"Cut your connection to the flames. Just release everything." Hildr was confused by that instruction.

When she does that, her flames just disperse and die out instantly, like they were never there.

The same will happen now… right?

With a gulp, she follows Leo's instruction, and she is nearly blinded by the ensuing flash, the whole room shaking from the catastrophic explosion that cracked the enormous Ward conjured by Leo.

So powerful was the blast that Hildr felt her organs and bones rattle, her form stumbling back from the shock-wave and nearly falling on her ass while her ears ring loudly and painfully.

But she powered through and ignored all of that as her mouth hangs open in shock, completely in disbelief at what had just transpired.

Of all the things she expected to see happen, an explosion of horrifying strength was not among them.

"What the fuck was that…?" She questions towards Leo, her mouth completely dry as she looks at the scorched black area where the sphere of flames used to be.

"A Thermobaric Spell. Kinda." Leonidas muses with a shrug, "Heat and Pressure being released all at once."

"When your flames are dispersed, they don't hold much power. But gather them all together, and squeeze them down into a tiny sphere. All of that heat is now compressed, too many flames into a too little space, and with them having become a vacuum that sucks in oxygen no less."

"The moment you released that pressure keeping the sphere in place, all of the immense heat dispersed forth. It created a blast wave that reached supersonic speeds, which is followed soon after by a blast of wind that sucks everything back in due to the air rushing in to fill the vacuum created."

Leonidas makes a clicking sound, the air around him being quite smug and satisfied, "Pressure is one hell of a thing, ain't it?"

Hildr gulps again and wets her dry lips as she takes in the difficult to understand information like a sponge, utterly drunk on how interesting and fascinating it all is.

"...That barely took any Magicka at all…" She reveals in stunned disbelief.

Then, of course, Leo points out the obvious, "Now imagine that, but boosted with Chants."

Hildr shudders at the thought, "So… This is my version of your Magic Missile?"

"Yup!" Leonidas nods and pats her on the back, "Congrats, now you can kill Dragons even without your Spirit." Now wasn't that one hell of a rush…

"Though, I am a bit disappointed that I cannot explain things well to you, else I'd be able to help you do even more powerful things." Her friend muses, disappointment clear in his while Hildr's brain short-circuits at the mere idea of him having more powerful Spell ideas than the one they currently did.

"Things like using Hydrogen, or Fusion, or Fission… Should've paid more attention in school." The man whines, childishly kicking the ground as he moves away while sulking deeply.

Ignoring him for now, Hildr looks down at her gathered palms and starts conjuring more flames, then condensing and squeezing them into a tiny ball.

Unlike before, she wasn't planning on releasing it all and making it explode, instead she had another brazen idea in mind.

The air rushed in, the heat of the compressed sphere sky-rocketed, and then Hildr released the lid on the immense pressure squeezing down on the sphere.

But not from all sides, but from a small tiny point aimed straight at the wall at the other end of the room.

Escape route gained, heat, force and pure power rushed forth at what Leonidas mentioned was 'supersonic' speed, a blinding beam of light cutting through the air with an ear-piercing screech that left her head aching.

The explosive force pushed Hildr back, her arms still outstretched as the concentrated blinding beam of energy swept from left to high in an instant due to her lack of control, mainly from the sheer amount of force it released all of a sudden, leaving her unable to aim it properly.

It lasted for just two or three seconds, but this time Hildr was able to see the Wards inside the training room shoot up to maximum strength to contain the power of her Spells, the Runes on the walls glowing brilliantly as the beam of heat carved against them uselessly.

When the Spell ended, Hildr slumped, eye wide, once more utterly stumped at how little Magicka that took.

Such a small, unthinkable change… could truly bring forth such horrifying power?

Slowly, Hildr turns her lone eye to stare at Leonidas, who is quietly staring back at her.

Then, he speaks, "I'm not even that good…" He childishly mocks her again before scoffing, utterly exasperated as her cheeks flush heavily, "Now, imagine having the assistance of your Spirit when you unleash these two new Spells in your arsenal. With Chants."

Gulping heavily, Hildr straightens herself, a feeling of… fulfillment enveloping her whole.

She knew that she still had a long way to go, but she finally did not feel like a complete burden. She had ways to fight, and not entirely rely on her Spirit.

Still, this was a start in a good direction. "Shall we move onto Restoration Magic?" Hildr questions with an excited grin, eager for more.

With a nod, her Undead friend moves closer, "Yeah, let's switch to your Ward. What problems are you having with it?"

"Well, for one, it basically blocks nothing. I think it's too thin?"

And so, Hildr spent a few more hours being coached by Leonidas with her training – she also nearly had a heart-attack when the Undead idiot used that insane book of his to find a solution to a problem she was having – and found herself having a broader mind at the end of it all.

A different perspective truly helped her – even if it came from an insane Undead that started throwing hands with her Spirit half-way through her training – and she found many of her questions and problems solved within a few hours, leaving her with much less work to focus on.

So when they exited the training room, she was both tired, but also very refreshed.

Maybe this 'Training Montage' of Leonidas wasn't as bad as she thought-

"-told you five times already that the Magic Circle has no problems! I quadruple checked it!"

"Then why is it not working properly?!"

"I don't know! I'm the one in charge of making sure the Magic Circle is set properly, and it is! The activation is not up to me!"

An argument from an open training room draws Hildr's attention, a trio of Mages arguing over a large and inactive Magic Circle scribbled on the ground.

By the looks of it, a sort of Fire Rune meant for traps. Hildr had to wonder if the Mages even knew that it was a trap Fire Rune, not a Flame Atronach Conjuring Circle.

The two were similar, but the giant Fire Rune in the middle was slightly different. It was easy to mistake one for the other.

So, Hildr wanted to point out that the Magic Circle is working properly, and that they just set a highly explosive trap on the ground. One wrong step, and it explodes in their face.

Her mouth opens- "I know what's wrong with it!" Leonidas cuts in, striding into the room confidently as she blinks and keeps walking out of pure surprise.

"Ain't got no gas in it-!"

BOOM!

High-pitched screams filled the air as waves of scorching flames overflowed out of the open training room door, followed soon after by Leonidas running out, looking completely unarmed.

Yet, Hildr paused as she watched him run, his legs bent and spread wide apart, arms spread beside him and bent upward, opening and closing like they were crab claws.

"Woop-woop-woop-woop-woop-" Were the noises coming out of her idiotic friend as her rushed past her, getting away from the disaster he had caused as screams filled the air.

Hildr stumbles as laughter bubbles out of her at the utterly idiotic sight, relief filling her at seeing Leonidas act 'normally' once more.

At the expense of others, of course.

                                                                                    ….

Hildr stares at the package in her hands with a blank stare.

The letters from Gretel and Aurelia had come at the same time, together with a small head-sized package.

She opened it after giving Leonidas the letters, and now they were both staring at the contents inside.

A mask lay in there. A Dragon Priest Mask.

Leonidas brings up the letter written by Aurelia, the words 'Oh, I also beat up Rahgot! It wasn't that hard!' were written at the end of the letter with pure, smug energy that overflowed out.

Also, they were written in very, very small letters. Minuscule, even. Clearly, despite being written with a smug air, the idiot Dragonborn was fearful of their reaction.

A redhead and an Undead look back at the package, then share a look.

"I'll hold her down and you tickle her?" She offers, but alas, Leonidas has a far darker, more twisted mind.

And when he speaks, only the worst kind of torture imaginable overflow out.

"I'll grab Gretel, overload her on caffeine and sugar, unleash her on a tied up Aurelia to tickle her, and then I'll dunk her bare feet in sugar water and let a goat lick them."

Far away from them, and atop the highest peak in Skyrim, a certain silver-haired woman feels a shudder go down her spine, thoughts about leaving Skyrim entering her mind for some unknown reason.

Meanwhile, in the middle of Whiterun, a red haired child lifts her gaze towards the sky and breathes in, a manic grin on her face.

"My time has come…"

A.N. Small interlude chapter after the events of the previous one.

This is mostly because I needed to put some time between the events so to set up the next Arc.

What to expect from it? Lore on Deinmaar, Alduin finally showing up, lots of Falmer, lots of lore on the College plus more focus on it, and more focus on Hildr too.

The Arc after the next will have the group reunite for Saarthal, which I am still thinking about how to make it unfold.

The next arc will be very long, probably double the length of the current available chapters? So yeah, am looking forward to writing that!

Hope y'all have enjoyed the story so far! I plan on making even better in the next Arc!

Lots of love and hugs to y'all for the constant support!

And if no chapter of this comes out before Christmas, then MERRY CHRISTMAS in advance!

Toodles!

I, Draugr Chapter 30

Swordmanship is all about dancing. That is what her dearest mother always told her.

Be nimble on your feet, dance around your opponent, always move and never come to a halt, lest you grant your opponent an advantage.

Though, despite all that, Aurelia found herself unable to follow in her mother's footsteps, and instead followed her father's.

She picked up the greatsword, like he did, and started swinging it. Over and over, until her arms tired out.

She built muscle. She kept swinging.

She felt like something was missing. She kept swinging.

She trained and trained, wishing to be as strong as her parents. To join them in their adventures. To be like those characters in the bedtime stories her mother and father would read to her every night.

She wanted to be liked her parents… Yet, she couldn't.

Her mother was good at Magic. Aurelia wasn't.

Her father was good with a greatsword. Aurelia just relied on brute strength.

Her mother was good with dual blades. Aurelia felt like it did not match her.

No matter what she tried her hand at, she always came up short. Something would feel off, or her training would bear no fruit even after months of hard work, or she just didn't have enough Magicka.

She trained, and she trained and trained. And she kept training.

Her one desire, her one focus, was to simply be able to stand alongside her strong parents, and be a worthy daughter that could follow in their footsteps.

All she wanted was to fight alongside them, and protect them.

Yet, what she got was hiding away in the mud, tears streaming down her eyes, and filling her mouth with dirt to not let out broken sobs as she watched a Necromancer gut her parents and torch the village.

A ritual, he had said. A test for a new puppet he had made, that is all that was.

Dozens dead, just for a test. Out of pure curiosity.

Aurelia vowed revenge. Aurelia wanted to scream and curse and hate the Necromancer.

But said revenge was stolen from her when a Paladin of Arkay ended the filth right then and there.

Everyone was gone. She had lost everything. She had even lost her one chance at revenge. At perhaps making something of her life.

With that gone, she clung to that hatred, and she let herself be taken in by the Paladin.

She joined the order. Trained harder than everyone else. Still ended bottom of her class for her poor capabilities, but she passed.

Blessed with the Light of Arkay, and given an outlet for her hate and anger, Aurelia set off for countless years, hunting down Necromancers and Undead.

That was her life. If she wasn't hunting down a Necromancer or Undead, then she was hunting down information about them.

If she wasn't doing that, then she was taking a break to further train her body, having found herself lacking in the most recent battle.

Over and over she kept going with this same cycle. Never once did it change. Never once did she want it to.

Never once did she see herself living a normal life ever again.

And then a gut feeling sent her to Skyrim. A faint whisper shared between two elders in Riverwood sent her to Bleak Falls Barrow.

And a stupid voice singing without a care in the world in the middle of a crypt filled with Undead led her to Leonidas, and Aurelia's world was never the same again.

For some reason, she held her hand against the strange Undead before her, and that one action held immense consequences.

She found herself laughing a lot and very often, something that rarely happened. She found herself slowing down her life, actually taking her time in doing things, and…

And she wasn't thinking of finding the closest Undead or Necromancer to kill.

For the longest time, those thoughts never entered her head.

For her whole attention was captured by Leonidas. A man with a unique mindset, and that loved being open and direct with everyone, even if he appeared silly or stupid.

If her eyes couldn't rest on his form, then her mind wouldn't stop bringing him up.

Somehow, the very thing that ruined her life… Taught Aurelia how to live again.

He beat down her walls, dispelled her fears, brightened up her life, and made her stomach ache with constant laughter, or made her temples ache from the constant chaos he would unleash within seconds.

For the first time in her life, Aurelia experienced love. The love a woman would feel towards another man.

And she, funnily enough, fell for an Undead.

The very thing she swore to hate and hunt down until she died, somehow started making her heart beat quicken and her cheeks burn.

But also made her smile. Constantly.

Just one thought, and she is all smiles.

A content sigh leaves her lips, and Dawnbreaker roars within her grasp.

The ground collapses beneath her feet, and the wind screams by her ears as her form blurs across the ruined valley. Yet another battlefield that needed her presence.

A battlefield that needed both the Dragonborn and the Paladin of Arkay.

Dawnbreaker's brilliant blade slices through the air mercilessly, the overheated blade warping the air around it slicing through scales, flesh and bones effortlessly, sending a Dragon's head flying with laughable ease.

Its Dragon Soul is soon devoured, but Aurelia easily ignores that feeling as she rushes to the next Dragon.

Four in total, three remaining. A brilliant sky-blue aura was attached to their forms, digging into their flesh and tearing at their very Souls like a terrifying parasite.

It was a most terrifying Shout. One borne from the hate countless Mer and Men Races experienced as Dragons enslaved them, and used them for entertainment and mere snacks.

And this unyielding Hate was aimed straight at the Dragons immortal Souls, making them experience what mortality is like.

What being weak felt like.

Their wings failed them, and they plummeted from the skies with roars of disbelief. Of pain.

Of Fear.

Her new target that crashed into the earth powered through the pain despite its broken and snapped wings bent at unnatural angles.

The proud scaled beast roared in defiance, jaws spread wide open for a Breath attack… Yet nothing came out, making the Dragon snap back in shock, confusion and more fear.

A blade sliced through its skull, and its Soul was consumed soon after.

The third Dragon was too consumed by the pain tearing its Soul apart to see the blade coming.

The fourth had tried to draw closer to the Dragon Priest slowly descending from the air, but it was too blinded by the pain to see the blade coming until it disemboweled it.

And with that, there were no more Dragons standing between the Paladin and the Dragon Priest.

Aurelia's sharp gaze lingered upon the armored form of the floating Dragon Priest, his form slowly descending down from the sky, greatsword in hand and held in a tight, seemingly shaking grip.

Her free hand moves to join the other in gripping Dawnbreaker's handle, but yet again, Aurelia feels like its wrong, so she keeps wielding it with one hand.

Greatswords weren't heavy for her anymore. Her strength had become utterly absurd after devouring so many Dragon Souls, so now the usual comforting weight of a greatsword is gone. They now were as light as a feather in her hands.

As if all the training she did to build muscles across the years was all for nothing.

Yet, Aurelia did not feel bad about it. This was due to her Dragon Soul. Her power. It was a part of her, so she shouldn't be angry about it.

Her posture relaxes, and her head turns to regard the distant pit still releasing a vile air of Necromancy, together with the constant army of Undead.

Luckily, the environmental hazard she had left behind proved to be too much for Undead lacking intelligence, so-

Her instincts suddenly flared, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end as she whirls around, Dawnbreaker cutting through the air without second thought.

Two greatswords clash against one another with immense force backing both blades, which was released as an enormous shock-wave that flattened the earth and made Aurelia's ears ring from the near deafening metallic ring.

Her whole arm came back numb from the clash, both her and the Dragon Priest having been forced back from the exchange, with the tall and imposing masked Undead now standing on the ground.

Aurelia hums and rolls her arm, flexing her numb hand a few times to get the feelings from it back before turning towards Rahgot and tilting her head, "...You're kinda weak."

That slash she used to parry his blow… She didn't put her back into it.

While Rahgot used both arms to deliver that blow.

Aurelia felt… disappointed.

Yet at the same time, she was surprised. Was she really this strong? Could she have handled Krosis if she wasn't scared?

Her words made Rahgot freeze, his massive form coming to a sudden halt, as if he couldn't believe what he had just heard.

Then his hands shook, and finally started shaking. His arms soon followed, then his shoulders.

Aurelia tilts her head further at the sight, "You having a stroke over there?" She questions, feeling the corrupted side of her – Leonidas's fault – come to the surface for some reason.

And the first and last time it did was against Krosis, when she joined Leonidas in utterly humiliating a Dragon Priest.

Aurelia snaps back into focus when Rahgot releases a noise that no animal or Human – or any of the existing known Races – would ever be able to replicate.

Still, it was some kind of scream, mixed with a bellow of pure anger, followed by an overhead slash that came for her skull and life.

Aurelia just sidesteps it with a low hum, Dawnbreaker slicing through the air and nearly taking Rahgot's head off as soon as his blade smashes into the ground, sending a surge of broken earth and dust high in the air.

The swipe is dodged with a simple tilt of the head, and Aurelia clicks her tongue, mentally admonishing herself. She should have gone for a shoulder or arm, not directly for the head.

Still, being in such close proximity to her was not advantageous for Rahgot. Dawnbreaker's radiance set his form on fire, the brilliant platinum-gold flames of Sunfire eating away at his robes and armor tainted with Necromancy.

Twisting the blade, the Dragon Priest wrenched it out of the ground while stomping to the right, dragging his weapon and ruthlessly hacking it through the air, aimed straight at Aurelia's hips, hoping to slice her in half.

Aurelia twists the Daedric Artifact, but knew she wouldn't be able to move sword wielding arm fast enough to meet the wild slash.

So she slammed her kneecap against the flat side of Rahgot's greatsword while leaning her upper body back, and she soon watched the blade go wide and miss her by a massive margin.

So much so that Rahgot stumbled from having the attack go wide in such a manner, the view making Aurelia release a light snort as she straightens herself.

Damnable Leo. She was starting to become unable to take things seriously now!

Another wordless howl of anger flowed out of Rahgot as the imposing Undead flipped around, swinging the blade in his hands down like a sledge-hammer.

Aurelia likened his actions to a tantrum from a child, making her wonder if this man had everything handed to him. Had everything go his way.

And when it didn't, he'd just go insane with anger, hence his name.

She sniffs, uncaring to find out the truth of her assessment as she lowers her stance and grabs Dawnbreaker with both hands before slashing it upward to meet the incoming downward slash.

The impact was near deafening, her form stumbling and nearly loosing footing as their clash ruptured the earth, making it burst upward like a wild geyser.

Aurelia clicks her tongue and narrows her eyes, the intense power behind the clash having sent Dawnbreaker flying out of her grasp.

She still wasn't used to her strength…

A wordless howl snaps her back into focus, with Rahgot's masked form bursting out of the thick cloud of dust and debris, blade still in his grip and once more coming for her head.

She side-steps the slash, then her fist smashes straight into Rahgot's masked face, sending his whole skull reeling backward together with his upper body from the force of the blow.

His right hand comes loose from the greatsword, freeing one arm, which she ruthlessly grabs and yanks with ease, lifting the towering Undead over her shoulder before slamming him into the earth.

A rumble echoes across the valley as she craters a pit into the earth with the Undead's body as a tool, her armored boot lashing out to swiftly kick away the now discarded greatsword, her gaze taking that chance to flick around to seek her own.

She saw it, dozens of meters away, stabbed into one of the earthen spires she conjured with her initial Shout.

She clicked her tongue again, then soon leap away from the rumbling debris filled pit she smashed Rahgot into just in time for her to dodge the upheaval of the very earth.

Another tower of dust and debris rose high into the sky as Rahgot came crawling out of it like a beast crawling out from the pits of Hell, his gaze never leaving Aurelia, not even bothering to seek his sword.

Slowly, the Dragon Priest stands, covered in dust and from still falling pebbles, hands clenching into tight and trembling fists.

The Undead rolls his neck, then his shoulders. A glowing pitch-black aura soon engulfs his form, and Aurelia curses beneath her breath as she feels her body be covered in goosebumps.

Ebony Flesh.

'I need a weapon.' She thinks, knowing that she wasn't that good in hand-to-hand combat, yet she still clenched her fists and raised her arms.

The Shehai. It was all about creating a weapon. One able to cut through anything.

A power that comes from the Soul.

But how the hell does she call it forth?

With gritted teeth, Aurelia stomps forward and swings her right arm – Her eyes widen slightly when Rahgot easily grabs and halts her fist, the impact of her punch against his palm releasing a muffled shock-wave.

With a click of the tongue, she stomps closer and swing her other arm while leaning her head back.

Rahgot audibly sneers, free arm rising up and grabbing her wrist before her punch could connect with his skull- And then said skull reeled back when she head-butted him. Hard.

His form stumbles back, releasing her wrist and fist, and her foot soon crashes into his chest with enough force to kill a normal man- Yet all it did was lift Rahgot off the ground and send him back a few paces.

He lands on his feet and dusts himself off, the protection offered by Ebony Flesh being far too great for her current physical strength to overwhelm.

She'll lose in a hand-to-hand fight… So she thinks on what Leo would do in such a situation.

The answer is instant.

Play dirty.

She kicked at the ground, sending a wave of dust forward, then flicked a bright ball of light straight through it and towards Rahgot, then she rushes forward as the cloud of dust lights up from the blinding flash that erupted from the other side.

She comes through to Rahgot's form stumbling back, as Undead being always make the mistake that they cannot be blinded.

They can, if Holy Light does the blinding.

"TIID-!" Time slows to a crawl, and her fist slams into the side of Rahgot's head, snapping it to the side.

It felt like she tried to punch a mountain, but Aurelia powered through.

Chest, stomach, liver, cheek, throat- She rained down at least three dozen blows in quick succession before time started flowing normally, and released a surge of shock-waves layered upon each other in a split-second soon after.

Aurelia shakes her arm as Rahgot is sent flying, armor torn apart and fully destroyed, the protective and empowering light of Ebony Flesh faltering and growing visibly weak.

But Aurelia curses under her breath when she notices Rahgot was sent flying straight in the direction of his discarded weapon.

His form flips through the air, feet, knees and clawed hands digging into the dirt to halt his momentum before he swiftly rises, "FUS-!"

Her eyes widen as the earth cracks, and she feels the world squeeze down around her.

"RO-!" The squeezing became near-suffocating, the air cracking and popping as it tried to tear her apart.

"DAH!" The Reality howled as it was commanded to PUSH, pulverizing anything in its wake.

"FEIM." Aurelia whispers beneath her breath, and smirks when the immense Unrelenting Force shout flattening the valley just flies straight through her ethereal form as she moves forward.

Erasing the distance in a single leap, her form turns material once more just a split-second before her fist, cloaked in surging Holy Light, smashes straight into Rahgot's skull with every ounce of strength she could muster.

His form his lifted off the ground and smashed into the earth, Ebony Flesh shattering from the impact.

It was one of the reasons why Aurelia never invested in Flesh Alteration Spells. A few blows, and they'd break, wasting useful Magicka.

Even Ebony Flesh, possibly the most powerful variant, still had such a glaring weakness.

Her boot, also cloaked in blinding Holy Light, slams into the downed Rahgot's stomach, kicking him through the torn earth, using his body to carve a trench as a pained grunt left his form.

Not afraid now that they were once more evened out, Aurelia stalked closer as Rahgot leaped to his feet, keeping him focused on her and not on his nearby discarded weapon.

Her senses extended, and she found Dawnbreaker. Behind her, but far to the right.

Aurelia fixes her position as Rahgot pounces forward. She ducks beneath the wide haymaker and punches him in the stomach hard enough to shake the ground, the Holy Light cloaking her body making the Undead experience and falter from pain.

But he recovers swiftly, and she grunts as his elbow digs into her spine, slamming her into the ground.

She doesn't try to stand and instead rolls to the side, avoiding the stomp aimed for her throat. Her fingers dig through cracked earth, and she whirls herself around, legs stretched out and lashing out.

Rahgot jumps to avoid having his feet kicked out from beneath him, giving her time to jump back to her feet, but the dark glow of Ebony Flesh cloaks his body once more.

Not as intense as before, but it still frustrated her to no end.

And from the way Rahgot was leaning, Aurelia could tell that he had taken notice of his weapon and was planning on grabbing it soon.

'I need a weapon.' Aurelia reminds herself, hating how light her arms felt.

Her fist weren't enough. She didn't like using them. She preferred a blade. One that could cut.

She snaps back into focus when Rahgot stomps forward, wide haymaker aimed at her head coming from the left.

Her arm comes up, blocking the blow, but she chokes out a gasp when Rahgot's knees her in the stomach.

It hurt, but not insanely so. She had grown a lot tougher, and the armor Hircine rewarded her with also blocked a great deal of the blow.

Still, she wasn't one to give up on an opening such as this.

Her free hand comes down and grabs the raised armored ankle, and a snap echoes as she shatters decayed bone and rusted armor with her strong grip.

She whirls around with a grunt, dragging the Dragon Priest with her, and wielding him like a flail as she smashed his body into the earth.

Then she spun around again, dragging his form along, and once more smashed him into the debris of the ruined valley that is their battlefield.

Again and again she slammed his body into the ground, pouring Holy Light through her limbs and into his body to make him experience pain, and to tear at the durability of Ebony Flesh.

With a final slam, his leg comes loose, which she swiftly turns to dust with her overflowing Holy Light.

Alas, she slammed the bastard right next to his blade, which bounced in the air from the constant crater-making impacts, giving Rahgot the chance to swiftly snatch it out of the air and turn his head in her direction.

Her boot smashes into his stomach just as calls forth another Shout- "FUS-!" And both of their forms were instantly sent hurtling into the distance, but in opposite directions.

Aurelia smirked right after a quick grunt as she was smashed into a certain earthen spire, the one with Dawnbreaker lodged into.

The force behind the Shout wasn't that great, so she easily pulled herself free and swiftly wrenched her Daedric Artifact out of the hard dark stone it was sent flying into, then giving it a twirl.

Aurelia breathes in and stares down at the once more glowing blade, radiating greater heat and Holy Light than before now that it was back in her hands.

Her fingers clench around the handle, her eyes sharpening as once more she feels that feeling that it's wrong. That she wasn't fighting the way she should.

It vexed her. This feeling just kept nagging her, and she just couldn't quite place the why…

No, it was something simple. Something silly, even.

Her other hand… It felt empty. Just hanging there, being useless.

She could grasp Dawnbreaker with both hands, but Aurelia felt like it would be useless, and she felt like it wouldn't match her current level of strength. It would be too overwhelming, it would easily throw her off balance. A missed swing would spell disaster, an opening she couldn't afford.

It had happened to Rahgot too, right before her very eyes.

Aurelia breathes out, and her traitorous mind conjures the voice of her mother, past teachings of her ringing in her head.

"Wielding a greatsword is like being a bear. Constantly on the offensive, pure raw power behind each swing. You are the beast, powerful and ferocious… But also a big target. Each swing needs seconds to recover. Precious seconds that can spell life or death."

Staring down at Dawnbreaker, Aurelia gives it another twirl… Before passing it to her left hand, and holding it in a reverse grip.

"Dual Wielding instead gives you a weapon for attack, and one for defense and counter-attack. Both are light, giving you more freedom, allowing you to more."

Breathing in, Aurelia looks up as a wordless howl rings across the ruined battlefield, shaking the very air.

She feels an immense wave of heat slam against her, a pillar of roaring flames surging skyward, unleashing an immense conflagration that spread like waves crashing upon a beach.

The white-orange flames surged, popping and crackling like powerful explosives, and from within that storm of flames she could see Rahgot.

His mask was glowing a radiant white color, flames overflowing out of it and into his body, changing and morphing it.

His back was hunched over, his form bigger and more imposing from before, his limbs cloaked in hardened molten magma that dripped on the ground below, a powerful flaming dragon-like tail stretching out from his back.

His limbs had grown wider. Thicker. His hands became flaming claws, the nails a radiant white color that showed the heat overflowing out of them.

His blade glistened with the same heat, a coating of hardened flames wrapped around the edges, to perhaps overpower her own blade and ruin it.

Rahgot's appearance seemed… demonic. Aurelia could easily tell that the power of his Mask was some form of physical enhancement mixed with some kind of Flame Magic.

She could see the magma overflowing from the mask, hardening around Rahgot's form like a suit of armor, even giving the Dragon Priest another leg to replace the one she tore off and destroyed.

Her reverse grip over Dawnbreaker hardened as Aurelia changed her stance.

Her father taught her how to fight, how to find weak-spots and create openings, and how to cover her own and or use them to her advantage, taking a blow to deliver a more devastating one.

Her mother instead taught her how to move, and how to properly wield weapons.

"Right foot in front of the left one." Aurelia closes her eyes, the memory of her young self standing before her old home and being taught by her wonderful parents surfacing in her mind.

She could see their smiles, and this time she did not ward the memory away. She welcomed it, finding a form of… acceptance.

The hate for Undead and Necromancers was still there… But it didn't blind her anymore. It didn't lead or manipulate her life anymore.

Funny, how the one being that ruined her life, also managed to somehow fix it and change her.

She wondered if her parents would be proud of what she accomplished in life.

But she also had a lot more to achieve.

Her stance shifts, her right foot moving to stand before her left one. "Slightly bend your left knee, leave only the front of your left foot touching the ground, and lean on it. Like so, you can launch yourself in any direction."

She follows suit, and twists her body to replicate her mother's stance when she wielded her two blades.

Dual-wielding greatswords… She wondered if anyone ever did such a crazy did in the past…

Her right shoulder moved forward, hiding Dawnbreaker, held in a backward grip with the blade resting behind her arm, from view as its brilliance needed.

Her eyes remained close, but she could feel and hear Rahgot pounce forward. A disaster rushing through the earth in her direction, a roaring conflagration following in tow.

Right hand still empty, Aurelia's thoughts land back to the Shehai.

The power of the Soul, shaped into a peerless sword of her making.

The power of the Soul.

And her Soul is that of a Dragon.

Her empty fingers curl as she breathes out, all sound vanishing as she views herself holding the handle of a blade.

"Yol-Toor-Shul." She calls forth Reality, and Wills it to bend and shape the power of the very Sun to her whims.

Of course, something as overpowering and as domineering as the Thu'um is not meant to become controlled. To be tamed and cowed.

Dragons trained it by granting it greater power. By becoming more attuned to it, letting it radiate out of their scales, changing their mortal forms to better attune themselves to that wild, unrestrained power.

Yet Aurelia felt it. She felt it rampage against her, but something joined in. Something gentle, warm, like a mother's kind embrace.

It formed blueprints of what she desired. What she needed. It laid down the foundation, and used the surging power she called forth from her very Soul to make it take form. Giving it an outlet.

A weight settles in her empty hand, and Aurelia swings it without opening her eyes, meeting the falling blade with a casual slash of her new weapon.

A Sun bloomed into existence, and Rahgot felt like a meteorite smashed into his form.

The land melted, a dazzling heated brilliance that hurt the eyes blooming forth like the Sun rising over the horizon, dispelling the darkness once and for all.

But this light was greater. Intense, wild, rampaging. The roar of a Dragon could be heard coming from it, shaking the very Heavens.

Aurelia felt like she wielded a part of Paarthurnax in her hands. A part of Yolosqah. Their very Will, the understanding and wisdom they left in her.

She felt Yolosqah's pride. His desire to become more. Greater. Become one with the Thu'um.

She also felt his respect in her. His joy in being defeated in battle. In having been her greatest opponent yet. One she overcame.

Then she felt Paarthurnax's overflowing wisdom. His patience. The immense power he tamed while mastering his nature and changing his ways.

The brilliance faded. The ground stopped melting, and her boots carried her out of the pool of molten slag surrounding her.

Rahgot had become a meteor, his form sent smashing through hills and earthen spires both, bouncing on the earth like a pebble skipping on water.

All from a casual swing of her new blade.

Aurelia looked down, eyes wide, her head throbbing in a violent and horrid headache.

In her hands lay a long greatsword, seemingly made out of glowing white-orange glass.

Paarthurnax told her that constructs made from the Shehai were transparent, and held no weight.

Yet Aurelia felt like she was holding a mountain. The weight pleased her, and the heat radiating from it and flowing through her arm comforted her.

A handle seemingly made out of scales rested in her grip, with a guard being a Dragon skull, jaws parted open to let the long blade flow out.

The heat radiating from it was immense, yet restrained within, ready to flow out with a simple swing of it.

Aurelia could tell that the power of the blade was finite. Each swing would consume more and more, but the power she'll be able to unleash makes it more than worth it.

This wasn't the Shehai. Not yet, at least. Aurelia could tell that she used that power, but it didn't come out as perfect, it merely acted as a stabilizing force for this creation of hers.

Still, for a first try, Aurelia was quite proud of the result, even if it tired her out a great deal.

Brandishing her new heavy blade, she smiles beneath her helmet, a low whisper leaving her lips- Before she vanishes from her spot.

Rahgot had just finally stopped his momentum by plunging his flame-coated greatsword into the ground, and used it to slow himself to a halt and lift his bulky form back up.

His head rises up just in time to see his opponent blink into existence, the strange crystal-like blade cutting down towards his skull, forcing him to hastily side-step.

The tip of the blade touches the ground, and a blinding flash erupts. A wave of immense heat is instantly released, causing the air to expand near-instantaneously in an immense compressed shock-wave that could be seen for miles.

An expanding dome of white that purged the clouds from the skies above.

And then the bone-rattling sound reverberated across the land, causing avalanches from the mountains surrounding the regions and glassing the earth below.

The once present environmental hazard left behind by Aurelia was scorched clean, leaving behind glazed and glassed bedrock.

At its epicenter, Rahgot felt Ebony Flesh be shattered once more, the bones of his ribcage hidden beneath his being nearly vaporized, leaving behind only his cracked spine.

Still he pushed forth, as he did not feel it, and he swiftly swung his blade to behead the bent over and open Dragonborn, capitalizing on that clear-as-day opening.

But the glowing golden blade that intercepted the blow with ease, held in a reverse grip and flicked out at the right angle to jab against the flat side of Rahgot's greatsword, sending the blow astray.

Aurelia spins her hunched over body, twirling around and cutting out with the crystallized flame-blade in her grasp, the vicinity forcing Rahgot to use his left arm and gauntlet to block the blow.

Contact with the blade instantly unleashed another devastating explosion of heat and force, but one tens of times weaker than the previous one.

Yet still strong enough to pulverize his arm and shoulder with little to no resistance.

He stumbles backward, liquid flames and molten rock flowing from his mask and across his body to reforge a new arm.

As he does so, he watches in glee as the crystallized blade shatters and fades into particles within his opponent's grasp, and he pounces forward once more, the constant humiliating failures and injuries only fueling his anger.

The golden Holy blade switches from one hand to the other, and their weapons clash once more, a metallic clang echoing through the air from the impact.

Rahgot growls like a beast as their blades drag against each other, sending showers of sparks raining down on their forms as they split up, then rushed in for another exchange.

Their blades were a flurry of steel and sparks, clashing together dozens of times in a matter of seconds, and with each clash, Rahgot grew angrier and angrier.

It was humiliating.

He was losing.

The Holy blade being so close kept tearing away at him, slowing him down by setting his form alight with Holy Flames, weakening him constantly as he experienced PAIN. Constant, horrid pain.

And each clash rattled his bones, cracking them further and further, putting him on the losing side as his decaying body couldn't handle the strength he used to wield in life.

But would it have mattered if he still had his body of flesh and blood…?

That traitorous thought made him come to a momentarily halt. A short one, yet a moment of weakness that is instantly capitalized on.

His world explodes into horrendous pain as a dagger made of Holy Light is stabbed into his exposed neck faster than he could react or recover.

He stumbles back, the pain almost blinding, leaving him unable to think.

"FUS." Aurelia chants once more, her headache growing worse while her throat starts aching, yet another crystallized blade appears in her grasp, same as the previous one, but now a dark-blue in color.

And she brandished it in a backward grip while rushing forward, planning on finally ending this battle once and for all.

Rahgot howls in anger, a wild predictable slash aimed at her neck. A desperate attack to put some distance between them, so that he could work off the pain flooding his senses.

Aurelia doesn't let him. Dawbreaker hacks down mercilessly, and a hand is sent flying through the air together with the sword in its grasp.

The howl of anger becomes one of pain, and Aurelia twirls around- "Insolence-!" The Dragon Priest finally speaks, but his words do not have the time to end before the sharp edge of a crystallized blade impacts with the side of his mask.

An ear-splitting popping sound rings out as the crystallized blade collapses from just one use, Rahgot's body bending at an unnatural angle as the flames around his form sputter out.

He is nearly sent stumbling over, his arm and leg made of molten slag collapsing into powder as his mask is hurled off his face from the sharp impact.

Aurelia smirks at her successful gamble, but curses herself for having done such a thing so late into the fight.

Still, she powers through- "ZUN-!" Aurelia blinks when Dawnbreaker is forcefully sent flying out of her grasp… But she just clenches her now free hand into a fist and punches the absolute shit out of Rahgot's face, sending rotten teeth flying and dislodging his jaw.

"As someone I dearly love once said to Krosis…" She speaks, a smirk into her voice as she stomps forward, left hand clenched into a fist, "You ain't shit!" She cackles out, uppercutting Rahgot in his freely hanging jaw.

The bone is pulverized and fused with his nose, lodging the few left-over teeth into his nasal cavity while his form is lifted several meters off the ground.

Jumping up, Aurelia grabs at the Dragon Priest's scorched robes and falls back down with him, landing on one stretched out knee and smashing Rahgot's spine into it.

A sickening crack fills the air as the spine shatters, and Aurelia mercilessly rips the filthy bastard in half, setting the lower part alight with her Holy Light while tossing the upper part on the ground.

She breathes out, feeling the adrenaline pumping through her body slowly come to a halt as her body relaxes.

The battle is as good as over now.

Aurelia straightens herself and rolls her neck, a faint smile on her face, "I must thank you." She starts, feeling a strange sense of… freedom.

Of acceptance.

Of… Finality.

Her hands rise to remove her helmet, and she lets out a breath as she shakes her head, ignoring how Rahgot is trying to desperately crawl away while whimpering.

She wasn't worried. The previous immense explosion had even evaporated the Pit, so it was all over.

"I hate your kind." Her boots move, bringing her towards the fallen glowing Dawnbreaker. "I forever will."

"But I won't let this Hate blind me anymore." She crouches down and grabs the blade, its glow resurfacing once in contact with her. "I won't let it hold me back. Let it create fear in me."

"So I must thank you." Aurelia turns and starts walking back towards the crawling Rahgot, one lone arm desperately clawing at the glassed earth, and towards his discarded Mask.

"Your weakness opened my eyes to my strength." Her boot falls down on his back, pinning the half-corpse to the ground.

"My duty does not scare me anymore. I welcome it. I embrace the challenge." She grins. A proud, toothy grin that reaches her bright eyes, "Like a Dragon should."

Her boot lashes out, and she kicks the Dragon Priest on his back, allowing her to stare into his flame-like eyes.

They are blue. Not green.

They are cruel.

Not wonderful, like his.

"You've been a decent enough grindstone, Rahgot." Her blade plunges down, stabbing clear through the Undead being's chest.

He howls. He howls and screams and trashes as his being and Soul are set alight with blinding flames.

She lifts his form up, holding him high in the sky, against the light of the sun shining down on them.

"But I hope you suffer." Aurelia coldly and ruthlessly states. "I hope you face eternal torment. That the gates of Sovngarde slam shut before you, and that you experience unspeakable horrors for each innocent life that you took and ruined."

Rahgot howls. A sound of madness, anger and pain. A sound filled with desperation.

His arm, lacking a hand, lashed out desperately, hitting at her face and shoulders and whatever it could reach.

Aurelia didn't even blink or twitch from the weak blows, watching as the limb disintegrated into sparkling dust with each passing second.

"And remember this, as you pass on…" She smirks cruelly, staring straight into those blue flames as she does so.

"You ain't shit."

She twists her blade, and a blast of Holy Light disintegrates the Dragon Priest.

A quiet falls on the battlefield as Aurelia's arm slumps down.

She lifts her head and closes her eyes, feeling the warmth of the Sun against her face.

'Tell me, is there anything you enjoy?'

She remembers that question from Leo. He wants to know more about her, and Aurelia… Aurelia finally feels herself free enough to learn more about herself.

She opens her eyes, and the world looks… Brighter. Wonderful.

"I like the feeling of the Sun's warmth on my skin." She muses softly, a gentle gust blowing against her face, dragging with it a scent that comes from the forest.

'Do you have a favorite scent?'

"This scent…" She breathes in, her smile blooming, "I like this one. The scent of the forest."

'A favorite sound?'

Her ears perk up, the roaring cheers coming from the people of Riften reaching her even from this distance, the populace of the city having watched the battle from the walls.

"This." She smiles, closing her eyes and enjoying the sounds of happiness filling her ears, "I like this sound."

Aurelia slowly lowers herself until she sits on the ground, resting Dawnbreaker to her side as she leans back to enjoy the sun and the air.

And for the first time in many years…

Aurelia takes a moment to enjoy what the World has to offer.

A.N. People wanted a chapter where Aurelia shines.

I wrote that, and more.

She's finally letting go of the shackles binding her form, and all because Leonidas just… exists.

Also, hope y'all enjoy her new power! I've mixed the Shehai with Dragon Shouts, creating what I've dubbed 'Dragon Blades' – still seeking a cooler name – which are basically Shouts, but condensed into the form of a Blade.

Trust me, this shit will get even more OP. Aurelia is gonna be insane in the future.

Leo is also gonna go all monke mode when he sees her again. Poor dude.

Either way, hope y'all enjoyed this!

Toodles!

I, Draugr chapter 29

P.S. Just to clarify and avoid confusio