Four old men in grey robes approached as soon as Nora stumbled through the door, stopping, her followers backing up behind her.

 

“Sorry,” she said, moving in so they could get into the warmth.

 

“So, another Dragonborn comes to High Hrothgar,” said one of the men, his beard truly grey. “I hope this one will show more wisdom than the last.”

 

“I am here to learn how to use the voice,” said Nora, bowing in the fashion of a karate student. “And I was told that you are the masters of it.”

 

“First, let us hear your Thu'um,” said the one, the others maintaining their silence.

 

“My, what?”

 

“Your shout. It is called the Thu'um in the Dragon tongue. And we would taste of it before we go further.”

 

Nora turned away and drew in a breath, not wanting to hurt any of these old men.

 

“No, toward us,” said the old man. “We would feel the strength of your Thu'um, that we might taste your power.”

 

“You're sure. It tends to knock people back, sometimes over.”

 

The old man smiled and gestured to himself, and Nora decided that they wanted her to shout at them.

 

“Fus,” she yelled, the blast of air knocking them back.

 

“You have the gift,” said the spokesman.

 

“And you are?”

 

“I am Master Arngeir,” said the Spokesman, again bowing. “With me are Master Borri, Master Einarth and Master Wulfgar. We are the Greybeards.”

 

“Do the others speak?” she asked.

 

“Perhaps you can ask your companions later,” said Arngeir, motioning toward Sofia, Toccata and Lydia. “They accompanied the last Dragonborn, he who knew everything and only wanted to learn the words as fast as he could. And where did it get him?”

 

“Dead. And no help to anyone. And I want to avoid that, so I am here to get your help.”

 

“Good,” said Arngeir, smiling slightly. “Then you are welcome. But first we have another test.”

 

Of course, thought Nora, frowning. There was always another test that she was expected to pass. She was sure that one day she would fail one, and what then?

 

“Master Einarth will teach you the second word of Unrelenting Force,” said Arngeir.

 

About time, thought Nora. She knew that there was more to that shout, and that she could make it more powerful. And here it was.

 

Einarth stepped forward and his voice rumbled. The same kind of symbols as appeared on the Word Walls materialized on the stone floor, glowing with power. Nora walked to it and looked down, and suddenly she knew. Einarth stepped back and radiated energy, looking much like what Nora had taken from the dragons. It flowed into her and the second word unlocked.

 

“Now, let us again taste of your voice,” said Master Arngeir.”

 

You asked for it, thought Nora, setting her feet and taking a breath.

 

“Fus Ro,” she shouted, feeling the power in her voice. The Greybeards staggered back, pottery fell, and Nora almost panicked at the force she had released.

 

“Yes,” said Arngeir with enthusiasm. “You truly are Dragonborn. Only the Dragonborn can learn the words so easily, without long study.”

 

“I think your shout is more powerful than that of the last one,” said Toccata from behind her.

 

“And now we will go into the courtyard for your last lesson, for now,” said Arngeir, turning away. He and the other Greybeards led Nora to a set of doors at the back of the monastery. Cold air blasted in as the Greybeards filed through.

 

Crap. We're going outside, thought Nora, who really had no desire to face the temperatures on the mountain again, especially with darkness falling. She only hoped that they didn't stay out there long.

 

It was not completely dark out in the courtyard. The red of a sunset made the western sky alive. Nora looked over at the arch that started the path that led up the mountain. A wind howled just beyond, and she had to wonder what kind of barrier was preventing it from sweeping the courtyard.

 

“And now Master Borri will teach you the first word of Whirlwind Sprint.”

 

Borri spoke, another low rumbling that hinted of the danger of his voice. Again a word glowed on the stone floor of the section he stood near. Nora walked over, looked down on it, and knew another word. Borri glowed, energy flew from his body and converged on Nora, who again felt the thrill of a force almost exactly like absorbing a dragon soul, leaving the woman wondering just what kind of powers these people had.

 

“Now we will test your knowledge of Whirlwind Sprint.”

 

Another damned test, thought Nora. Still she followed the Greybeards with enthusiasm, anxious to find out what the shout did.  Einarth walked to a gate and it opened on its own. The Greybeard stood beside it, while Borri took a position next to Arngeir.

 

“Wuld,” shouted Borri, and he flew across the ground at an incredible speed, stopping beyond the gate.

 

Nora stared in disbelief. At first she thought the man had teleported, but replaying the image in her mind she realized that he had actually traveled over the ground.

 

“Now, show us your mastery of Whirlwind Sprint,” said Arngeir.

 

Here goes nothing, thought Nora as she set herself beside Arngeir, hoping that she didn't go too far since there was a cliff over there.

 

“Wuld,” she shouted, the ground blurred before her, and she was standing beside Borri.

 

“Your ability to learn the voice is incredible,” said Arngeir.

 

“More words?” asked Nora. She had a feeling there was a lot more. She had already learned four now, including two of Unrelenting Force. She guessed that all of the shouts consisted of three words, and she was anxious to learn them.

 

“In time,” said Arngeir, bowing. “It tells us much about you that you wish to master your gift. But growing your voice too fast can be dangerous.”

 

Come on. We've got dragons, bandits, and a civil war out there. I need the power to make change. But obviously they weren't going to give her more right now, so she would have to concentrate on magic while she waited for more revelations about the voice.

 

“Wuld,” she shouted, and she was on the other side of the courtyard. She looked back and waited a moment for the shout to cool down, the sprinted again. She thought she could do this all night, reveling in this new ability.

 

“Enthusiasm is good,” said Arngeir, looking right at her and motioning for her to follow. “But I sense that these temperatures are not to your liking.”

 

“It doesn't get quite this cold where I am from. I'm...”

 

“From another world,” said Arngeir, nodding as he led the way back to the doors. “We have heard the tales, but didn't quite know what to make of them. You are truly from another world? One of wonders we can't even imagine.”

 

“Yep. And you have wonders here that I never imagined.”

 

“So it seems that all worlds have their wonders, and their terrors. You will of course stay the night and head down in the morning.”

 

“You won't be training me more.”

 

“Again,” said Arngeir, shaking his head, “you must advance slowly. And we have one more test for you. You must retrieve the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller from his tomb. It is your final test before we can formally acknowledge you as Dragonborn.”

 

The rest of the party hit their beds as soon as they had arranged their furs on the floor of the room they had been given. The monastery wasn't the warmest place she had ever been, but at least it wasn't freezing. Nora stripped down to her small clothes and put on a tunic from her backpack, then took a seat at a table in a conference room where she could sit and contemplate the day.

 

“Dragonborn,” said Arngeir, walking into the room. “I sense that you have more questions.”

 

“Only a million of them,” said Nora with a smile.

 

“I'm not sure any of us have that much time,” said Arngeir with a returning smile. “But I can give you some hours to satisfy your curiosity.”

 

Arngeir sat there for a moment, silent, as Nora tried to prioritize her questions. Before she could ask the first one he spoke.

 

“You have a lot of curiosity. Unlike most warriors of this world.”

 

“I was more than a warrior on my world,” said Nora, looking into the calm eyes of the monk. “I was a leader, a politician, and I needed to understand the concerns of everyone from farmers to scientists.”

 

“I have never heard that last word.”

 

“A scientist is a seeker of knowledge,” she explained. “They try to discover the secrets of nature, and use technology to make the impossible possible.”

 

“They sound like the blasphemers at the College of Winterhold,” said Arngeir in a derisive tone. “Trying to do the unnatural.”

 

“Sometimes, yes. Other times they come up with some discoveries that help the society in which they live.”

 

“And sometimes the mages do that as well. Just not often enough. But, as I was saying, you seem to be above the basic warriors of this world. Not out for glory, not boasting about your prowess to all and sundry.”

 

“I had an instructor in another life,” she said, amending that as soon as she saw the confusion on the Greybeard's face. “Before I woke up from my long sleep. He was a practitioner of an ancient fighting art, one that taught that violence was the last resort. He always said not to boast about your prowess, so that any who attacked you would not know what you were capable of, and would be surprised when you acted.”

 

“Sage advice,” said Arngeir, nodding. “Would that others lived by that philosophy, and the nonviolence until it is necessary.”

 

“So you aren't completely against violence?”

 

“Oh, we don't believe in violence, but we would be naive to preach that violence is never necessary. The world below is populated by violent people, and sometimes it must be returned in kind. But, as I was saying, you aren't one who believes in the glory of battle.”

 

“Nothing glorious about combat,” she said, shaking her head. “It's dirty, painful and degrading. Too many innocents get killed no matter what you do. But if you don't fight the evil people can do whatever they want. So no, I don't like fighting and killing, but someone has to do it. And since I feel that I have better judgment than most, that means me.”

 

“Yes, you are a good choice,” said Arngeir, nodding. “I was suspicious of the last Dragonborn, but he was the first that had been seen in hundreds of years, so we felt we had no choice but to try and teach him. He was too full of his own pride in accomplishment and wouldn't listen. You, on the other hand, are a very good listener, worthy of your gift.”

 

“I'm not sure about that,” said Nora, shaking her head.

 

“Which makes us even more sure that Kynareth has chosen well this time. So, what would you know?”

 

“So, there are only the four of you? No wives or lovers? No housekeepers?”

 

“We are pledged to celibacy,” said Arngeir, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “We have no need of intimacy. And since our needs are few, it is easy to pick up after ourselves.”

 

While Nora really couldn't understand the philosophy of Celibacy, she wasn't about to question it in these men.

 

“And there are five of us,” continued Arngeir, looking up. “Our leader, Paarthurnax, lives at the top of the Throat of the World, in seclusion.”

 

“Paarthurnax,” repeated Nora, tasting the name. “That's an unusual name. When will I get to meet him?”

“When your voice allows you passage to the top of the mountain. Eventually you will learn those words, and then you will be able to ascend to the top.”

 

So another trial, she thought, frowning.

 

“What else can I do to increase my power?”

 

“You can take the time to advance,” said Arngeir. “I realize you are impatient, but there is no other way. Finding Word Walls will increase your range, and we can help you locate those. But there are other things you can do. Meditation to Kyne, hunting her spirit animals, and reading the plaques on the way stations on the path up the seven thousand steps. Shouting to the sky daily will please the goddess. Jumping off the mountain and falling for four seconds will also garner her blessing.”

 

“Fall off the mountain? Won't that kill me?”

 

“If not done properly, yes. It is a true leap of faith, but you must ensure that you can fall the four seconds without landing. I would not recommend it until you are ready. You will know when the time comes.”

 

That seemed to be the standard answer. You will know. But how would she know? What if she thought she knew and she was wrong? Nora thought jumping off the mountain was a bad idea all around, and wasn't sure if she would ever be able to assemble the courage to do that. Unless she did it in her power armor. If she realized she hadn't fallen far enough she could always engage her jet pack and fly back up. Unless the goddess considered that cheating.

 

“Who was Jurgen Windcaller?”

 

“He was a warrior of the Nords. At one point he invaded Morrowind, and the Dunmer ambushed him at Red Mountain with a mighty army of warriors and mages. The Nord army was obliterated, and though Jurgen Windcaller escaped, he lost his love of battle. He decided that the gods had punished him for using the voice for something other than to glorify them. He founded the way of the voice that we practice to this day.”

 

Well, I'm not sure any of the things you call gods are worthy of worship, thought Nora.

 

“You don't revere our Gods, do you?” asked Arngeir, raising an eyebrow.

 

“I don't know your Gods, and the only one I have met kidnapped me from my world and my people.”

 

“For good cause,” said the Greybeard, nodding.

 

“And I'm willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. But I'm still not sure of her judgment.”

 

“She is sure of you, or she wouldn't have brought you here. I am sure, that with time, you will come to accept her will.”

 

Probably not, thought Nora, not willing to argue with the man who was her only link to becoming a master of the voice, something she would need to win the fight on this world.

 

“And how do I find Windcaller's tomb?” she asked, not even sure what part of Skyrim it was in.

 

“Give me your map and I will mark its location for you.”

 

Nora pulled the map she had bought from Farengar from her pack, unfolding the large parchment on the table. She expected Arngeir to point to an area, possibly using some writing implement to indicate it. Instead, he pointed to a spot, and the symbol of a Nordic tomb appeared in the North Central part of the map.

 

“Amazing.”

 

“Such maps are rare, though I have seen them before. You are fortunate to have one.”

 

More fortunate than I knew, thought the woman, mentally thanking the mage. It wasn't as good as her suit GPS, which wouldn't work on this world anyway. But it was definitely something special in this place.

 

“Any other questions tonight?” said Arngeir.

 

“No. Maybe before I leave in the morning.”

 

“Very well,” said the Greybeard, getting to his feet. “And let me tell you. For someone taken from her own world and dropped into one so different, you have landed well. I think you will grow to become what this world needs. So be patient.”

 

The Greybeard walked from the room, leaving Nora alone with her thoughts. One was that this wasn't the first time she had been dropped into a new world, and maybe the second time was easier than the first. But she was sure that she couldn't keep doing this before she ran into a world she couldn't handle.

 

*     *     *

 

“That's quite a ways,” said Sofia, looking at the map, Lydia and Toccata nodding in agreement. “Two weeks at the very least.”

 

“That long,” said Nora after a whistle. She wasn't sure how much time she had, but if this is what her teachers wanted she would try her best to comply.

 

“I recommend that we ride up from Whiterun toward Dawnstar,” said Toccata, tracing a finger along the road running north connecting the two hold capitals. “Then on this crossroad toward Morthal, turning north to go cross country about here. We'll make better time on the roads.”

 

“And run into more bandits, maybe necromancers,” said Lydia, brow furrowing in thought.

 

That last sent a chill up Nora's spine. She didn't like the undead of this world. The raising of the dead by mages also turned her stomach. She wanted to get rid of all of those bastards, but also realized that they would be a hard opponent to take out, especially in numbers. And for some reason the death mages seemed to flock together like packs of wolves.

 

“If we're careful,” said Eldawyn, staring at the map, “we can go off road before they see us and work around. I think Toccata's suggestion is the best. Though I would add a half week to her estimate.”

 

“Why?” asked Toccata, giving the Altmer a questioning look.

 

“Because we will probably find things to do along the way,” said the smiling elf. “Ruins to clear, quests to undertake. Our Dragonborn needs to learn about this world, so I don't think just rushing up there and finding this horn is in her best interests.”

 

Nora wasn't sure about that, but she did know that Eldawyn did have her best interests at heart. The elf had already been drinking, so Nora was pretty sure the spirit possessing her wasn't doing the talking. She worried that the spirit might take over some time when they least expected it, but Elda was such an asset she was willing to chance it.

 

“I will return as soon as possible,” she told Arngeir just before they left.

 

“Be patient and come back when you can,” said the old monk. “We know that the world is a large place, and that you may be called upon to handle many problems before you come back. Just keep yourself alive and all will work out.”

 

Nora nodded and almost hugged the monk. Something in his demeanor changed her mind. For some reason it didn't seem appropriate.

 

“Fus Ro,” shouted Nora to the sky as soon as she got outside. She felt a burst of energy enter her body and thought it was the approval of Kyne.

 

“Wuld,” she shouted as soon as her voice cooled down, sprinting down the mountain. Her followers ran to catch up, only to have her pass them as she sprinted up again, then down.

 

“You're like a child with a new toy,” shouted Recorder in a laughing voice.

 

“Yes,” said Nora during a cool down. “And if any of you could do it you would.”

 

She shouted again, then again, over and over, until she felt like she had run ten miles. Stopping to catch her breath she realized that the shout, while allowing her to run really fast, didn't absolve her of the fatigue of covering the ground.

 

“Satisfied, my Thane?” asked Lydia, stopping beside her.

 

“I guess I need to pace myself,” said Nora, panting.

 

“I guess you do,” said the Housecarl, putting up a hand to hold up the party until her charge was ready to go on.

 

I'll build up to this, thought Nora with new resolve. She thought of it as a new physical ability, and thus she could train it like any other ability, like running and lifting. Maybe that would be so, maybe not, but if never hurt to try.

 

Ivarstead was still packed with people waiting for news of the Dragonborn. People shouted questions about the Greybeards, and the party, per agreement, told them that the Greybeards hadn't let them in. Nora wanted to get out of here before anyone started thinking she might be the Dragonborn. She had never liked the hero worship she had received in the Commonwealth and would try to remain incognito as long as possible.

 

An hour later they had the horses saddled and loaded and were on their way to Darkwater crossing to deliver Adrianne Avenicci's order for Corundum to the mine there. It would take them another couple of days out of their way, but Nora thought she needed to deliver on her promise, and Lydia's new armor would be worth the time.

 

*     *     *

 

Nora felt too energized to sleep with so much on her mind. So surprisingly she faded from the land of the awake as soon as she crawled into her furs. To awake in another world. Her feet were treading on clouds while beautiful birds circled around her. She looked down to see that she was naked, her nipples hard and erect, her skin glowing in the soft light surrounding her. She felt a strange arousal, like she was anticipating the arrival of a lover. And then she was there.

 

“Welcome, mortal,” said the being in a musical voice that sounded like the song of angels. “Do you know who I am?”

 

“Kynareth,” answered Nora looking into the angelic face, the perfect body, only covered by a floating scrap of gossamer.

 

“The same. Have you gotten over cursing my name in your mind?” said the goddess with a musical laugh.

 

“I'm still a little cross with you, yes. You took me from my world, my people, my friends.”

 

“Yes, and they are looking for you, But you cannot return until you have accomplished your task here. I must say that you have done well so far, and I have looked upon you with pride.”

 

Nora felt herself flushing, like a child who had been praised by a parent. She wasn't sure what to make of that, but decided that the praise of the Goddess was something to be desired.

 

“Come with me. Make love to me,” said Kynareth. “Then I will answer some of your questions.”

 

Nora found herself in a bed chamber among the stars. She wasn't sure what kind of dream this was but it wasn't normal. She looked at the bed, as soft a surface as she had ever seen, with sheets of the same gossamer the goddess was wearing. Only she wasn't wearing the gossamer. The goddess was before her, as nude as Nora, her nipples, surrounded by large areolas, erect as well. And then Nora was in her arms, the bodies in contact, the goddess drinking kisses from her lips. It was a heady sensation, the taste of fruit on the goddess' mouth, a tingling working its way down Nora's body.

 

The goddess pulled the mortal gently onto the bed. Their hands explored the bodies of their lover's, and the left hand of the goddess found and caressed Nora's sex. A wonderful orgasm started at the tip of her toes and ran up her spine, and Nora cried out from the pleasure. Soon the hand of the goddess was replaced by her tongue, and another orgasm had Nora crying out in rapture.

Soon they found themselves in a position of mutual satisfaction, and Nora thought she had never tasted a woman like this before. Light and heady, with a hint of honey, it was the most wonderful vagina she had ever tasted. And then the vagina was gone, a large and shapely penis in its place.

 

“What,” mumbled Nora, looking up. The body of the goddess was still there, the breasts, the beautiful face. But the penis was real as well.

 

“I am not as mortals,” said the goddess in her laughing voice. “I can be as I wish, and I intend to impart a gift upon you.”

 

Nora found herself on her back, legs spread, as the goddess hovered above her. The penetration brought another rush of pleasure, and Nora wondered if she would ever experience anything this wonderful again. Kynareth thrust the large penis within her. It should have hurt; such was its size. Instead it seemed a perfect fit, filling Nora, stretching her with no discomfort. The tingle arose across her body. Her clitoris was singing, and her body was following the song. And then the orgasm, making those that had come before seem like the merest tinglings of passion. She screamed and Unrelenting Force echoed from her mouth. And then she felt the divine cum within her, spurt after spurt of a semen that tingled with life.

 

“And so I impart my gift to you.”

 

“Did you make me pregnant?” asked Nora, almost in a panic.

 

“No. You do not need that in your life at this time. But now you can have children if you want.”

 

A tear came to Nora's eye, and suddenly she was crying, gasping her sorrow and joy. She was a complete woman again. Able to have children if she wanted. She had no intention of having any until she was through with the task ahead, but having that to look forward to. It was a wonderful gift, and she looked into the eyes of the goddess with profound gratitude.

 

The goddess rolled off of her, the penis gone, and reached over to play with Nora's breasts.

 

“You have questions? Ask.”

 

“How long do I have? It seems that Alduin is destined to destroy this world, but everything I have to do will take so long.”

 

The goddess laughed again. “The way of dragons is not the way of mortals. And Alduin is beyond any dragon. To him a month is a day. It will take years for him to move through the opening stages of his plan. Many more for him to eat the souls of the world. Which isn't permission to dawdle, because he will continue to consume the souls of the dead, denying them their reward in Sovngarde. So build your strength and hone your skills. And know that I will always be with you.”

 

Nora awoke with a start, her last orgasm still tingling through her body. She was covered in sweat and the odor of arousal rose from her sex.

 

Just a dream, she thought, rubbing her eyes. She reached down to her groin to find out just how aroused she was. And discovered semen leaking from her vagina. Did one of those old men rape me in my sleep, she though in a flash of anger. Rolling over to get to her feet, to demand an explanation from Arngear, she remembered that she was no longer in High Hrothgar. And she discovered the amulet that was lying beside her. It glowed with power, a symbol of Kynareth, and she knew the dream had been real. She had been with the goddess. She had loved the divine. And had been gifted with working ovaries. And this amulet, which would give her shouts more power and reduce the cool down time.

 

A musical laugh in her head let her know that the goddess was still with her.

 

“I am yours, Kynareth. Now and forever,” she prayed.

 

“And I will be with you, mortal, my favorite child. Now and forever.” And the fatigue overcame Nora and she felt into a deep and dreamless sleep.