---Sun's Dawn, 10th, 4E 201---
Blurry eyes. Squinted vision. The last shout further weakened his contused mind. His senses were yet foreign to the forced ingression of the shouting ability. He felt a part of his soul rip out into the shout.
It certainly isn’t as simple as the Greybeards made it out to be.
He knelt, resting his weight on one hand, while healing himself with the other. His ears picked up a series of illegible sounds. Spells being flung. Blazing heat. Magic. Sorcery. As the healing spell steadily ran through his veins, his vision began to clear. His body responded. He closed his eyes tightly. What he witnessed when he opened them, made his heart sink.
A grace that adorned the chaos with serenity. Her aura of magic touched his being gloriously like the morning breeze. Clad in the simplest of clothes. A brown leather armor, moth-wings skillfully embroiled on either side of the mid-lining. A silk weapon-belt tied hugged her waist, accommodating an enchanted steel dagger. Sleeves almost ragged. Wavy black hair floated back beautifully riding the wind’s current. Her dark blue eyes harbored an ocean of compassion.
With one hand in front of her chest, and the other by her waist, Yvienne’s posture exhaled out a sensuousness enough to melt even the coldest mountain.
---X---
Sahloknir now enraged at this unannounced disturbance, prepared his counter.
“Klav!” He bellowed in disgust. Wings thrusting with decision, he thundered towards Yvienne, pure fire building inside.
In reply, the Sorceress skillfully held up her ward as Sahloknir passed above her, attacking with an onslaught of fire breaths. The fire passed right through the ward. It appeared that she was absorbing the spell. The magic smoothly crept within her body, radiating out a blazing red energy.
Yvienne opened her arms wide and closed her eyes, fire cloaking her in its fiery might. She then clasped her hands together, concentrating all the energy into a blazing fireball and flung it at Sahloknir with a force that spun the air beneath.
A complacent Sahloknir couldn’t anticipate this sudden turn of the tide. His own shout hit him with destructive strength. It ripped through his wings, eyes and body. Pain unbearable, he let out a terrifying scream.
Delphine, both astonished and pleased, and partly unable to make sense of events, moved over towards the recovering Ernand.
“Are you alright?”
“Yes, I am fine.” Ernand’s magical energy slowly started to regenerate as his body healed. The shout’s effects still lingered on even as he felt the rise of another shout generating within. Suddenly the weakness turned to energy, He was ready to shout again. I must help her, whoever she is.
“I doubt she needs any help, now come on.” Replied Delphine, catching the purpose in his eyes. Both of them scurried around the shrubbery to look for a strategic place to attack.
Delphine’s sensibility had taught her over the years to be patient and strategic, a mindset that had saved her life on many an occasion. Having found cover behind a broken pinetree-stem, she readied her bow instinctively and her aim locked on to Sahloknir.
Yvienne continued her barrage of ice storms and ice spikes. Sahloknir’s fire attacks were turned useless as she used her wards to absorb them and hurl them back at him.
As the duel passed on, Sahloknir felt his power crumbling against this new opponent. Yvienne's magic was regenerating at a rapid rate. She hurled one spell after another in instant succession, switching effortlessly from ice to shock to fire.
His regal wings now utterly destroyed, Sahloknir fluttered in the air, slowly descending helplessly. The ground trembled as he landed down. Flight now abandoned him. But he had a plan.
---X---
Her experienced senses acting with instinct, Yvienne now brought her palms together in front of her chest. A crimson blue ball of light formed between.
Ernand could feel the conjuration magic emanating from the spell. This was a peculiarly powerful spell.
She’s summoning a Daedroth!
Ernand had only read about such animalistic monsters in his studies. He had seen Atronachs, and even Dremora Lords being summoned, but never had he laid eyes on a Daedroth. The Varieties of Daedra. An interesting book.
In the next instant, a behemoth figure materialized in front of Yvienne. Its feral bellowing vibrated through the sky.
“Hmph, Yvienne you beauty.” remarked Delphine, lowering her bow with reassurance, witnessing proudly the power of Sorcery.
With another roar, the Daedroth charged ferociously towards the dragon in front of him. Sahloknir had to think fast.
In a moment of desperation, somehow he gathered just enough of his life force and shouted.
“Yol…..Tor Shul!!”
But the Daedroth’s shield spell negated the full power of the shout, causing the monster just a small flinch. Angered even more, it now leapt forward, its sharp teeth threatening to rip off the flesh.
Sahloknir knew when to retreat. He instinctively cowered behind his wings.
Then. A scream. Spine chilling. Soul breaking. An agony that penetrated the realm. Blood dripping mercilessly from his freshly formed skin. The Daedroth held on, slashing away with icy sharp claws.
Yvienne knew this was her chance. In yet another feat of arcane mastery, she started to gently sway her hands around, her curvaceous figure moving in a tranquil grace. Her years of profound experience made her instincts sharper. Vampire, witch, dragon, all the same. No?
That’s when Ernand noticed the moth around her neck. An Ancestor-moth? Ernand gasped, taken aback. She’s not the everyday master mage. This was beyond traditional magic. This was elder magic. Such sorcery has been known only to the Cult of the Ancestor Moths, who themselves retain an ambience more mysterious than the Greybeards.
“By the Gods!” Ernand couldn’t hold his shock inside.
“Indeed.” Delphine completed.
The moth on Yvienne’s neck gently rose above, flapping delicately its grey-beige wings. Yvienne raised her hands in front of her, chanting inaudibly.
Ernand couldn’t see anything else. His vision was fixated on the divinity before. Such grace and agility, he’d imagined only in his dreams.
Unable to ignore the merciless pain anymore, Sahloknir brushed aside the Daedroth in one swift motion before it vanished back into Oblivion. He grunted hysterically. The roar tearing through his essence.
Ernand wanted to intervene. He desired to help the Sorceress more than anything. He took a determined a step forward, before Delphine stopped him.
“Trust me.” She looked in his eyes with assertion. He understood. Sometimes, help has the tendency to harm.
---X---
In a final attack, Sahloknir’s will invoked an ancient shout. He knew it would most likely kill him. The power of this shout required pools of magicka to fully attain its might. Choice less, he built up the energy inside spending every last ounce of his magicka.
Almost simultaneously, Ernand felt a devastating force materializing rapidly within him. An ominous feeling. Time stopped. Such destructiveness.
The three words echoed throughout his body. Diin, Freeze. Tul, Still. Spaan, Shield. It was the most complete shout, strong in defense, devastating in offense. It would surround the caster with death-cold frost, before spreading out further all the while shielding him in a protective spell. . He could understand the words distinctly.
Without hesitation, he yelled at the top of his lungs. “Look out! He’s not done! He’s getting ready to shout!”
Yvienne’s concentration broke upon this unexpected interruption. The moth’s smooth movement shifted.
Immediately noticing the trouble, Ernand decided it was time to act.
He ran towards Sahloknir as fast as his legs could move, past Yvienne. Now standing ten feet from the dragon, panting & huffing, he breathed in till his lungs hurt & let out the last of his energy. “Fus RO...!”
Sahloknir was taken by surprise. The force hit him, causing him to draw back. The rage in his eyes rising even more.
“Vir krilon hi?”
Ernand locked eyes with Sahloknir. He could understand. The need to dominate. With such insurmountable power. Trying to catch his breath, he fell to his knees.
Sahloknir rose. You are a pity. You are not worthy. Here you die, under the full might….of the Dovah.
“You fool, what have you done?” Delphine clenched her fists in fear. She felt powerless. Sorry. Bravery and idiocy - a suicidal recipe.
The battle allowed only a second of rest before Sahloknir’s soul acted out. He shouted.
“Spaan…..Tul Diin!!”
Out emerged an all-encompassing snowstorm. It’s coldness enough to freeze out even the fiery depths of Dagons’ deadlands. It pierced through the air with unstoppable impel, freezing the trees, the grass, the birds, and the very air in its path.
Nothing moved.
An impenetrable mist slowly blanketed the whole scene. Time had no mercy as the freezing effects lingered on, forming a cloud of fog. Silence entered the battle. Sahloknir lay down on his side, his last breath waiting near.
From inside his protective shield-spell, he watched, waiting for the mist to clear.
---X---
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I like this use of the shouts and the language, I use Dovahzul a lot too, but my tale's a bit different in that it's taking him forever to learn that he's Dragonborn.