Dragon of the East - Arc 2, Chapter 21

• Posted by Okan-Zeeus August 14, 2015 - 1,299 views

  Dar-Meena
  

  ~ ~ ~

  Chase’s training went on for three full days. The Greybeards had plenty of things to teach him, apparently, but I knew he learned new Shouts instantly. Those ‘three full days’ were being filled with pointless crap. I think he purposefully stretched out the training by waxing philosophical with those old farts all day long.

  I’ll just come out and say it: I hated that monastery. There was nothing to do. The Greybeards wouldn’t even let me watch Chase train with them. Can you believe that? Like I was going to steal the Greybeard’s most precious secrets and divulge them to the world. The beds were terrible, the food was terrible, and the monastery was cold as Nocturnal’s ass. It was a miserable, miserable time.

  For me.

  Chase, on the other hand…

  I never thought I’d see him so happy. It was crazy! He loved High Hrothgar! You’d swear that Argonian was born to live there! Even when I tried to pick on Chase he didn’t once snap back at me. Nothing fazed him. It was as if he achieved some sort of religious enlightenment; he’d join the Greybeards in their meditation sessions for hours. I thought maybe he just liked the quiet.

  One afternoon I asked him why he was enjoying himself so much. There was something in the way he answered me that seemed to come from a place close to his heart.

  “Dar-Meena, this monastery… I’ve longed for years to find place like this,” he said. “A place where the world’s troubles cannot reach me. A place of peace, serene and remote. If not for the chilling weather, I do not think I would ever leave.”

  He sounded sincere about it. His good mood was contagious. But here’s the craziest part: Chase was talkative. He talked with me about all kinds of things! Life in Black Marsh, places he’d traveled to, people he’d met. He told me some of the most vivid stories I’ve ever heard. One was so insane it had to be true, some bit about taking on a crew of Khajiit pirates and burning down their ship in the Topal Sea!

  High Hrothgar did something with the old Chase and replaced him with a forgery. Not that I complained about it. He was the only reason I didn’t throw myself off the mountain out of boredom.

  For his last training exercise, the Greybeards permitted me to watch. It wasn’t graciousness on their part. I was very insistent. I sat out in the courtyard on a sunny day, squinting to see in spite of the bright snow. Chase had just finished learning a new Shout and was ready to give a demonstration.

  “Stand next to me,” Arngeir instructed him. “Master Borri will open the gate. Use your Whirlwind Sprint to pass through before it closes.”

  Chase and Arngeir were standing several yards away from a large metal gate in the middle of the courtyard. It looked kind of like a W, with four segments making two folding halves. Chase was facing the gate in a running start position. He glanced a few times at me, not used to having an audience.

  Arngeir turned to one of the other Greybeards.

  “Master Borri?”

  Chase let out a long breath.

  “Vex!”

  The Greybeard’s voice opened the gate. Chase Shouted.

  “WULD… NAH KEST!!!”

  He suddenly shot forward with a blast of air and passed through the gate in a blink. It looked like he’d been lifted an inch off of the ground. He kicked up wings of snow as he slid to a halt with his right foot out front. The gate shut itself a moment later. I stood up from my seat.

  That… was amazing!  

  I felt immediately jealous of Chase’s powers. Magic never looked so fun before. I went over to him as he walked back to his starting place, brushing off his pants.

  “Do that again!” I said. “I want to see it up close!”

  Chase smiled at me, but glanced at Arngeir as he approached us. His smile faded.             

  “Maybe later,” he said, motioning for me to stay put. He went up to meet the Greybeard halfway. Arngeir always wore the same face for every occasion, wrinkly and inexpressive.

  “Your quick mastery of a new Thu’um is… astonishing,” the old man said. “I’d heard the stories of the abilities of Dragonborn, but to see it for myself…”

  “I cannot explain how I do it,” Chase replied. “It feels natural... like swimming.”

  “You were given this gift by the gods for a reason. It is up to you to determine how best to use it,” he said, pausing as I walked up beside Chase. “You are now ready for your last trial.”

  “And what’s that?” I asked.                 

  “You must depart from here and travel far to the marshes of Hjalmarch. Retrieve the horn of Jurgen Windcaller, our founder, in the ancient fane of Ustengrav.”

  So a fetch quest, in other words. Finding this Ustengrav place was apparently part of the test. How wonderful.

  “Who was Jurgen Windcaller?” Chase asked.       

  “He was a great war leader of the ancient Nords, and a master of the Voice,” Arngeir replied. “After the disaster at Red Mountain, where the Nord army was annihilated, he spent many years pondering the meaning of that terrible defeat.

  “Jurgen Windcaller finally came to realize that the gods punished the Nords for their arrogant and blasphemous misuse of the Voice. He was the first to understand that the Voice should be used solely for the worship and glory of the gods, not the glory of men.”

  “The Way of the Voice,” Chase said softly.

  “Huh?” I looked at him. “The way of what?”

  “The Way of the Voice, Dar-Meena. It is the Greybeards’ philosophy. Breath and focus. True mastery of the Voice can only be achieved when your inner spirit is in harmony with your outward actions.”

  What kind of crack is that? I told him what I thought with a face.

  “We strive to achieve this balance,” Arngeir said to me, “in the contemplation of the sky, Kynareth’s domain, and the practice of the Voice.”

  I hugged my arms together, shivering in the cold. “Yeah sure, whatever.”

  Old beardy turned to Chase again and bowed. “We are pleased with your respect for our teachings. But remember, Dragonborn, that you are an exception to all the rules – the Dragon Blood is a gift. You were given it by Akatosh himself. While our Voices give glory to the gods, your Voice should grace the races of men. Remember this, and you will remain true to The Way.”

  “I understand,” Chase said. “There is one last question I wish to ask you”

  Arngeir silently awaited it.

  “I want to know why the dragons are returning. Does it have to do with me?”

  The Greybeard brooded over this. “No doubt. The appearance of a Dragonborn at this time is not an accident. Your destiny is surely bound up with the return of the dragons. You should focus on honing your Voice, and soon your path will be made clear.”

  Chase frowned, seeming concerned.

  “There must be more you can tell me.”

  “There is indeed much we know that you do not…” Arngeir brought his arms together in his robe. “That does not mean that you are ready to understand it. Do not let your easy mastery of the Thu’um tempt you into the arrogance of power. That has been the downfall of many Dragonborn before you.”

  In spite of that reply sounding annoyingly priggish, Chase took it graciously. He gave a slight bow of his upper body, eyes closed, tail straight, fist to his heart.

  “Hakkuut, xhu. I thank you for all that you’ve given me,” he said. “I will look forward to returning here again, in due time.”

  I watched him in the corner of my eye and wanted to vomit.

  Kiss-ass…

  ~ooooo~

  The doors of High Hrothgar closed behind us. Chase walked a few steps down the snowy mountain before stopping, as you would expect, to admire the view. I admired it with him, bundled up in my winter clothes. Clouds hovered low just below us. We were so high up it made me dizzy.

  “Back to the world of the living,” Chase whispered to himself.

  He stood there forever. I felt the urge to punch his shoulder but held it back. The time we spent in High Hrothgar had been a retreat for him. He was sad to leave. Something really, really bothered me about that Argonian’s depression.

  What kind of life do you have to live to fall in love with a place like High Hrothgar?

  I knew Chase was Dragonborn and all, but how rough did he really have it? There was so much about him I didn’t know…

  “Come on, Chase,” I finally said, tugging at his sleeve. “We are not staying here.”

  “Have I no say in the matter?” he replied.

  “No.”

  “But–”

  “No. Shut up and walk.”

  Chase heaved a sigh. We started stepping down the path together.

  “What would you have done if I tried to stay?” he asked.

  “Simple.” I help up my vile of paralyzing poison. “I would’ve drugged your food, tied you to a rope and dragged you down the mountain.”

  That made him laugh. I raised an eyebrow.

  “Oh, you think that’s funny?”

  “This may sound strange… but I think I am glad you would.”

  I snorted. “Don’t try to soften me up. I know you’d sooner throw me off this cliff if you had the chance.”

  Chase looked at me with a humble grin. “Why would I do that?”

  “Well… because…” I stared at the ground, suddenly embarrassed. “Because you think I’m a liability! You think I’m a…”

  He tilted his head slightly. “When have I ever said that to you?”

  I made the mistake of catching his gaze. He had that dumb smile of his again… that dumb, stupid, disgustingly honest smile. I snapped my eyes back to the path, feeling a flush of hot blood in my face. I’m glad he couldn’t see it.

  “You said I was in the way,” I whispered bitterly.
  Chase frowned. We both faced the path.

  “Yes... I was angry,” he said. “Partly at you. Partly at myself.”

  There was a short lapse between us. I glared at him.

  “You still need my help, you know.”

  “Hmm. Perhaps.”

  We left it at that. I’m not sure if we accomplished anything with that conversation, but it did… something. I was just happy that the trip back down the Seven Thousand Steps would be easier than the trip up. And we wouldn’t get stuck in a blizzard. Or have to carry dozens of extra pounds of meat and fish.

  After the past week me and Chase had together, I couldn’t believe how dull that sounded.

  ~ooooo~

  The Black River wasn’t really black but it made for a nice scenic route. Scenic if you like rocks and bugs, anyway. A few days had passed since we returned to Ivarstead. We got our payment from Klimmek and, after gearing up and finding out the location of Ustengrav, went off to retrieve the Greybeard’s wind horn or whatever. Even Chase seemed reluctant about the trip, but he needed to complete his trial. He wanted more information from those four old coots.

  I’m sorry – five old coots. Chase told me there was allegedly a fifth Greybeard at the top of the mountain. Their leader, someone named Paarthurnax. Can you imagine some lonely old man living all by himself up on a mountain peak? What would he do all day See how far down the rocks he could piss before it froze in mid-air?

  The gentle river we followed was at the edge of Skyrim’s volcanic tundra. Jagged rocks lined most of the route. I was dying to get off my feet for just one day. There were hot springs further inland, but I couldn’t convince Chase to let us to stop by them. It would’ve only been a slight detour! Hmph. You can imagine my reply to him when he asked if I would mind carrying his things so he could go swim in the river. Fat chance. Our scales were staying dry.

  One warm evening we stopped to camp by the riverbank. Chase went off into some woods nearby for food, as usual. I didn’t mention to him the provisions I’d bought in Ivarstead – bread, cheese and soup. No matter how many times that man fed me nature’s bounties, I would never acquire a taste for his pallet. I tried to hurry up and eat before Chase got back so I wouldn’t have to share. He’d be fine. He was the one who liked eating leaves and tree bark.

  The last time Chase foraged for food, he took me with him to teach me more wilderness stuff. This time he went alone. I was about to discover he had a reason for that.

  “…NAH KEST!!!”

  It was the sound of Chase’s Shout, followed by a rustling of trees. I shot up to my feet and listened. Everything went quiet.

  “Chase?” I called out. No answer. I set down my food and climbed up a steep gravel hill to reach the woods above. It was a very thin forest, very dry. Chase wasn’t anywhere I could see. He said he wouldn’t travel far…

  Is he ditching me again!? He’d better not!!

  “Chase! Chase, where are you?”                                                                   

  I heard a snap and saw a twig fall down in front of me. I bent my neck back all the way and saw Nirn’s first tree-fairing Argonain, clinging to the trunk of a brownish-green pine.

  “If you plan on mocking me, do it now. I am still partially out of earshot,” he exclaimed from high above.

  “What…? Chase, how…” I raised a hand to block the glare of the sunset. “I know I heard you Shout.”

  “You heard correctly.”       

  “Chase, did you… Shout yourself into a tree?”

  That sentence had no right to make as much sense as it did.

  “I will explain everything once I climb back down,” he said.

  “Oh no, I don’t think so! You can stay up there and explain it.”

  “Dar-Meena, I am going to ignore you this once…”

  “I’ll start throwing rocks.”

  Chase swore and grumbled something to himself. I snickered as he awkwardly tried to find a branch he could sit on.

  “I am trying to learn the limitations of this Shout, Whirlwind Sprint. At first I thought the Shout could only dash me forward, parallel to the ground.” He repositioned himself in a more comfortable spot. “But… that was a false impression. The Shout throws me in whatever direction the front of my body is facing. I tried lying on my back and…”

  “You went flying into a tree.”

  “That part was intentional.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  He looked off into the sky, watching clouds drift. I’ve got to hand it to Chase – pretty creative of him to try using his Shout like that. I wondered if he would figure out how to do fancy tricks with all those other Shouts the Greybeards taught him. They probably wouldn’t be as entertaining.

  Chase gave me a dirty look. “I am coming back down now.”

  I returned a sharp-toothed smile. “Go ahead. I’m satisfied.”

  He climbed down quickly, snapping branches off in the process. His pant leg almost snagged and tore a new hole. Chase had most of his armor fixed but it still looked a little rough. Of course, my clothes weren’t much better. It took a lot of scrubbing for me to get the blood off my jacket. I saved some money by sewing up the shoulder myself, not minding the shoddy stitches.

  “Apologies,” Chase said, landing on the ground. “I have dawdled long enough. There are still a few more things I need to gather.”

  “Sure, sure,” I replied. “Take your time. I’m not that hungry right now.”

  He folded his arms. “I am sure you aren’t. You have already eaten, yes?”

  “Chase, you weren’t gone that long. I can’t gather food faster than you.”

  “Dar-Meena, I can smell your breath…”

  “Oh. Nevermind then.”

  I don’t know why I even tried to fool him. How silly of me to forget that Chase has the nose of a dog. And the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a deer. Shit, the Dragonborn can probably taste things unknowable to us mere mortals.

  He went off to keep foraging through the woods. I followed him.

  “Hey Chase… I want to ask you something.”

  “Let it wait until later. I would finish this first.”  

  “Come on, it’ll only take a minute!”

  “I said not now.”

  I stopped and Chase kept walking.

  “I’ve been waiting forever to ask you this,” I growled. “Don’t you brush me off.”

  “If you have waited forever, surely you can stand a few more minutes.”

  I huffed, quietly picking up a plum-sized rock off the ground. I waited until he put some distance between us and threw it at his back. He snatched it in his hand without even looking.

  “Your antics are tired, Dar-Meena,” he said. “Learn to have patience.”

  Fine… You win. Chase resumed his stroll, carrying the rock with him. I was about to turn around and leave. Then Chase anchored his feet, staring down at the rock in his palm, thinking something.

  He chucked it toward a clearing and Shouted.

  “WULD!!!”

  Chase dashed past the rock, turning as he slid to a halt, and knocked it aside with his wrist before it hit the ground. Wasn’t enough for him to flaunt his reflexes once, huh? He had to keep the showboat sailing. I was impressed, but I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that. I gave a slow round of applause.

  “Way to go,” I said dryly. “You sure taught that rock a lesson.”

  He shook his wrist. “I was trying to catch it,” he grumbled. “This is no good… I have to be able to gauge the distance I travel with this Shout.”

  I thought he’d gauged it just fine, but Chase wanted to fret over being a few inches off. That would probably matter, though, in a fight with life and limb at stake, so I couldn’t really fault him. He was a meticulous Argonian.

  “Thinking you’ll master your Thu’um in a day?” I said.

  He gripped his wrist in his hand. “I will master it one way or another.”

  Gods, you love being dramatic…

  “Well, you know where to find me if you need rocks thrown at you,” I said, waving behind as I left for the river.

  The sun was almost set and the sky was a deep dark blue. Since the days me and Chase started traveling together, we slowly settled into routines. Tonight was Chase’s night to keep watch first. He still insisted on staying awake till dawn from time to time. It didn’t affect him all that much, but I couldn’t figure out why he refused to sleep so often.

  Stars were starting to glitter above. I was lying on my back, building up the nerve to ask Chase my question again. He was sitting cross-legged in the shallow edge of the river, silently meditating. I opened my mouth and let the words spill out.

  “Can you teach me how to cast that shield magic of yours?”

  Chase turned his head back. He stared at me, mouth slightly open. I could see the white of his teeth at the front of his snout.

  “You mean… my wards?” he asked.

  “Whatever you call them,” I said, sitting upright.

  “Dar-Meena, you want me to teach you spellcasting?”

  “That’s kind of the idea.”

  The wiry man unfolded his legs and turned around all the way, upsetting the water.

  “I… You do not seem to realize what you’re asking…”

  “No, I think I do.”

  “Most people are incapable of learning magic. It takes a certain type of mind…”

  “Are you saying I can’t do it?”

  “Not… quite…” He bit his tongue. “Anyone can access magicka. It is inherent in all living things. But it takes a strong will and practice to use it for spellcasting.”

  “Then answer my question. Can you teach me?”                       

  Chase eyed me uncertainly.

  “Why are you suddenly interested in magic?”

  “It seems useful.”        

  “Yes, it is… but…”

  Knowing Chase, it was going to take some openness on my part to convince him to do anything. I hunched forward.

  “Look, we’re going to be fighting dragons together,” I said. “You can defend yourself against their fire, or any kind of magic. I can’t. That bothers me.”

  “Hmm… I see. You desire a defense against the arcane.”

  “You remember that necromancer, don’t you?”

  Chase grew somber. “Yes…”      

  “I couldn’t do anything to protect myself from him. I had to depend on you to save me… Do you have any idea how maddening that felt? I was terrified, completely helpless.”

  I glared at Chase, holding the end of my tail tightly in my hands.

  “I never want to be that helpless again.”

  He glanced away at the water with a troubled look on his face. Chase shut his eyelids and breathed out through his nose.

  “We will have to find you a spell tome,” he said, eyes on me again. “I lack the skill to teach you spellcasting off of memory. The most I can do is guide you and help you practice.”

  “So you’ll do it?”

  He nodded. “I understand your reasons for wanting this. We will work on it together.”

  I didn’t grin on purpose. It was something I couldn’t help. That’s happiness, for you.

  “Sounds good,” I said. “Where can we get a spell tome?”

  “From a court wizard. That is if the wizard has any he’s willing to part with,” Chase replied with a generous helping of pessimism. “Do not get your hopes up too high. It took me months to learn how to control my magicka for the first time. I have my doubts that anything will come of this.”

  Then I’ll just have to surprise you… won’t I?

  “We can still try.”

  “Mm. Indeed we can.”

  I went to lie on my back again.

  “Chase… thanks.”

  He smiled a warm smile.

  “Of course.”

  Chase turned around and faced the river. As I settled back on my pallet, I watched him meditate. I wished I knew the things that were going through his head. His breathing was relaxed, shoulders rising and falling with a steady rhythm. He was like a stone sitting in that water, back straight, eyes closed, wind gently blowing through his feathers. A picture of quiet strength and control.

  After a while it struck me how long I had been staring. I scoffed at myself and went back to stargazing. He wasn’t… unpleasant to look at. I’d seen plenty of Argonians more handsome than him. If they were sculpted statues, then Chase was more like rock in its natural state, raw and weathered.

  I gave him one last glance, smiling to myself.

  I guess there’s a sort of handsomeness to that…       

  But I had to remind myself that there was something else about Chase, something he tried to keep buried. His malice. On the surface his kindness fought it down, but all it took were the right pressures to coax a killer out of him. Chase was thoughtful and caring. He was also a man of extremes. That didn’t scare me, though it did make it hard to feel comfortable around him.

  A wanderer with no place to go… caught in a storm of dragons and assassins…

  What was he running from? Who did he used to be?     

  What kind of life do you have to live…?

  Questions for later. I wanted to sleep.

  ~ooooo~

  “Chase, there’s a village up ahead – look, see?” I held the map up to Chase’s eyes, blocking his view as he walked. “Kynesgrove. It says it right there.”

  He pushed the map away from his face, trampling creep clusters under his boots. The salmon colored clumps of vine were scattered across the volcanic valley. It was an uncharacteristically warm afternoon for Skyrim. Probably had something to do with the blazing sun and hissing steam vents all around us.

  The scenery was a perfect reflection of our moods.                                                              

  “We have enough provisions for now,” Chase said grumpily. “We do not need to make any stops.”

  “Speak for yourself! You’re used to this,” I muttered. My feet were sore and tired. “You grew up in a swamp.”

  “What does that have to do with–!?” He cut himself off with a grunt and rubbed the scars on his face. “Dar-Meena, is the need this urgent?”

  “Why does it have to be urgent? I never even said this was about provisions.”

  “Then what is this about?”

  I spread out my arms. “Rest! And people! You know, other faces? Believe it or not, I get tired of looking at yours all the time.”

  Chase snarled. “We have resigned to this journey with very different expectations…”

  “And that’s my fault?”

  “Of course it isn’t!”

  “Then whose fault is it!?”

  “Xhuth, this is no one’s fault!”

  “Don’t give me that crap, if it was no one’s fault–”

  “It is a lack of communication!”

  “We’re communicating just fine, dammit!”

  “No we are not!!” he yelled, throwing his arms in frustration. Chase stopped in his tracks and planted a palm on his forehead. “Kaah, why do I let you get under my scales…!?”

  I sighed. “Okay, okay, I kept that one going. Calm down, Chase.”

  He pushed out a breath to relax himself.

  “Let us not bicker any more about this…”                                                                            

  “But Kynesgrove is close,” I whined. “Can’t we make an exception?”

  “Dar-Meena… We must avoid villages and cities whenever possible, lest we risk leaving behind too many witnesses,” he said. “I have explained this to you! I know that you are upset with these travel conditions, but please… think of the assassins. If the Dark Brotherhood has a contract against me, they may still attempt to complete it. They will not send amateurs a second time.”

  I kicked the ground.

  “Godsdamned assassins… This is bullshit…”

  “No one is forcing you to travel with me,” he said worriedly. “You are putting this all on yourself, Keerthelh.”

  My face twisted. “What did you just call me?”

  “Nothing… nothing…” Chase turned away, looking out across the tundra.

  He went rigid.

  Chase rushed over to the top of a rock shelf, gazing out with his arms hanging limp. I looked and saw what he saw, stepping up next to him. There was a storm of some kind, a huge cyclone of dark clouds. It was low to the ground, sitting right on top of a village. The maelstrom brought strong snowy winds. Everywhere else the skies were still clear and sunny. It was bizarre and frightening at the same time.

  “Tell me you know what kind of storm that is,” I muttered.

  “There is nothing natural about a storm like that,” he hissed.

  Chase pulled out his telescope to get a closer view. He set his sights on something inside the cyclone and gently lowered the eyeglass with a shiver.

  “What is it? What’s over there?”

  “There is a dragon flying in that cyclone,” he whispered. “A black dragon…”          

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  Whirlwind Sprint in Skyrim only dashes the player forward. I thought that was boring, so I’ve decided to make the shout a little more potent.

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