She loved the frosty air, the chilly winds on her cheeks. It made her feel at home, at peace. Hiking down south to get to a crossing at Solitude Sawmill, she saw a dragon fly up above her head. Since Alduin’s death most dragons had submitted to Paarthurnax and his Way of the Voice. This dragon wasn’t roaring in anger or violence, it was roaring with the excitement of soaring the free skies. They were beautiful creatures. Majestic as their wings barely flapped in the wind currents. She couldn’t help but watch. A farmer walked up to her, leaning on a hoe. “Beautiful int she?”
“Why yes. I’ve never seen a dragon before, only heard the stories.”
“I ‘ope you’ve heard the positive tales as well. Her name is Stinseruth. She has saved many farmers in this area from bandit raids and giant attacks. We see her as a guardian, savior of crops. Nobody unnerstands why she pertects us. Me pa said ‘e was the only Nord that ‘ad spoken to her. Tis ‘ow we know her name. Where ya headin’?
“Morthal.” She said her eyes still up at the sky.
“Nothin’ much goin’ on wi’ that City. Are ya going to visit the Jarl for a palm reading?”
“I guess, I’m just seeing what I can of Skyrim. “
“Then’res no point in goin’ to Morthal, nu’n much more than bogs and palm readings there. Fare well, fine elven mistress.”
Her hood had fallen down as she was looking up. Embarrassed she quickly raised I again hiding her face.
Crossing the bridge a surprisingly drastic change to the landscape occurred. From farmland to bog, it was one large marshland. Deathbells grew on every corner. The trees looked like they were sick. How could anyone make a home in this chilly and sickly part of Skyrim? She tried to skirt around the bog staying on the snow. Morthal should come in sight eventually. It wasn’t too deep in the swamp according to her map.
It surprised her how peaceful Skyrim was as she arrived in Morthal with no hindrance. It was a drab town to be living in, a ramshackle of houses around a piece of open water from the snowy bog with up the hill south of the body of water stood the Jarl’s Longhouse.
Lilith decided to make her way to the inn as it was late once more, it seemed that it was a day’s walk from city to city. She sat down at the bar, enjoying a delicious tomato soup, the nords knew how to cook. Blowing her steaming soup she started a conversion with the innkeeper about general goings on in the hold of Hjaalmarch. Supposedly a dragon south on a mountain peak was terrorizing the hold it had made home on a peak east of Labrynthian. It was a dangerous road to crossed because Labrynthian was a huge Nordic ruin beset with the fiercest of Skyrim’s Creatures. Only the caravans with the highest guard would travel through Labrynthian as a shortcut to get to Whiterun, most would sooner go through the Pale, a detour.
“Is it the easiest way to get to Skyborn Altar?”
“The easiest but nowhere near the safest.” The innkeeper was cleaning a cup “Latest sightings said that Labrynthian was beset with Frost Trolls. Horrible creatures. Impossible to kill if you don’t strike fast and hard, but so do they. Are you sure you want to face off this dragon? I am sure the Jarl will reward you richly, but it isn’t worth throwing your life away for.”
“You said it was a Frost Dragon?” Lilith persisted.
“Yes, I am certain.”
“Then there is nothing to it.”
“You’re no Nord, miss, and I have seen Nords come back frozen black and blue.”
There was no point persuading the half-elf. She finished her bowl, cupping it to her lips, and left without a word. Headed south to Labrynthian it got colder as the land raised to form the mountain ranges. Soon enough through the snowing wind she saw a vast ruin of a city. It must have been Labrynthian. She slowed to a walk as she walked through the gate, her elven ears perking for the slightest sound.
She heard nothing more than the howling of the wind through the stone ruins and the crunching of her boots in the crisp snow. Carefully she conjured her bound sword. It set off a chain of guttural roars, one from behind another far in front of her and one well to the left. She dissipated her sword and unslung her elven bow, and while turned knocked a sunhallowed arrow. She shot quickly and reflexively, straight through the advancing troll’s centre eye. It clutched its head before falling over backwards with a heavy thud.
She ran further south, deeper into the ruins. In the distance she saw a huge gateway between the mountains, behind the gateway lay the vast tundra of Whiterun hold like a basin. Running past a stairway the souther frost troll jumped down, she barely had time to raise her silver shield. Taking the brunt of the troll’s long and muscular arms. Her shield shimmered with golden light as the troll hit her shield over and over. The hits that could send a man flying were being absorbed by her shield that looked like it was on golden fire at this moment.
She remembered that Auri-El’s Shield absorbed every impact and could release it in a devastating shield bash so as the troll readied for another devastating lunge she ducked under and bashed with all her might. A golden flash blinded her for a second and when her vision restored the troll looked like it would reach the stars.
Not a moment to lose, she ran for the gateway hearing the third troll on her heels. Past the gates she saw the path leading up the mountain, straight to Skyborn Altar.
The winds were violent and bit like frost wraiths as she climbed the mountain path. The dragon heard her coming and roared “Another Kaal of the Bron! I Draal you are Zol Mul than the last Kaal. Krif voth ahkrin!!” The dragon spread its wings and flew from the word wall. Lilith unslung her elven bow but in her hand the golden bow turned silver and wider, more angled. She was holding Auri-El’s bow. She shot one of her Sunhallowed arrows at the dragon’s wing, it exploded in light, the dragon staggered as his wing had a burning hole in it. The beast landed on a tower peaking out over the mountain.
“You fight with the Zunne of the Dovahbormah, Akatosh. And you use them to Krii his Kulle. How Boziik. Fo Krah Diin!” And with his last words he a stream of snow and shards of ice blew onto her. Lilith gritted her teeth as the frost covered her body like a second skin. She carried on shooting, straight into the dragon’s throat. The dragon’s head quite literally exploded into shining shards of dragon skull and flesh. The dragon fall ungracefully from its perch, stumbling in front of her feet. She walked to the word wall; she had never seen one before. Her mother had told her that these walls were how she learned the dragon tongue. She examined the word wall carefully; slowly one word stuck out; it drew her in like a child approaching a rabbit, praying it wouldn’t run away. Lilith traced the talon carvings of that word and whispered “Fo” subconsciously she translated it to frost.
A crackling came from behind her, she turned around as the dragon’s scales floated upwards, combusting. As it turned to flames ethereal gusts flew towards her in various colours, the colours turned to images, memories. The dragon argued with an old and worn green dragon, he did not agree with the old one’s ways. He flew off and through the course of months fought and killed hero after hero. Flying down from his mountain perch, freezing travelers and villagers alike. His anger was undeniable but his joy of soaring the icy skies brought tears to Lilith’s eyes. As the gusts faded she heard one whisper in the back of her mind, “Iizvendun, remember it well, dovahkiin.”
She shouted the word from the wall; “Fo!” from her lips came a shockwave of ice, a frost dragon’s breath.
“Remember this, Lilith Odkiin, never take a word for its literal meaning. One word can mean many different things merely depending on the tone. For example the word Force in dragon, Fus in its literal take will push things forward. But take it in a different context, for example forcing a lock. With that simple word that everyone assumes is used to knock people back can open a lock.” She whispered the word at a locked chest in the room and the chest went click and opened, “Take this for any word. Now remember as well Thu’um is magic it can be manipulated like any other magic.”
At that time she wasn’t sure what her mother had meant by the last sentence but as the word Fo danced across her mind she saw many different utilities that a snow elf could do with an easier way to manipulate the cold.
When she returned to Morthal, two stormcloaks were waiting for her they grabbed her arms and twisted them behind her back, “Hey! Leave me alone!”
Gruffly, “Quiet criminal, you have committed crimes against Skyrim and the High family! You are coming with us to Solitude, I hope you enjoy your stay in the dungeons.”
“What have I done?!”
“Conspired against the High King by teaching his son magic!”
“There’s nothing wrong with magic!” she struggled as they threw her onto a cart.
“Magic is the weapon of Thalmor, you are suspected of conspiring against Skyrim.”
“That’s irrational!”
She yelled at the guard conducting the carriage. The other guard sat in the seat opposite her, “I don’t make the orders, lass.”
I hope you enjoyed, comments would be appreciated.
Next Chapter (Coming Soon)
Comments