They had left Whiterun on the morning of the fourth day, prepared for a long journey away from the comforts of home. Nora had commissioned some new equipment, based on designs from the Commonwealth, or things she had seen in adventure magazines before the war. None of it had been ready when they went after the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller, drat the luck. It had been ready for them when they headed out this time, and they carried all of her inventions with them. The entire party was wearing waxed leather ponchos, based on the old military style of Earth. While not keeping them completely dry in the worst rains, it went a long way to keeping them fairly comfortable.

 

Their personal equipment was bundled on the backs of the riding horses, and included fine parkas with wolf fur hoods, fur pants, and fur mittens, ready for the coldest weather. Everything had been enchanted against frost and fire, the thought being that Nora didn't want to see her well clothed people set ablaze in a fight in the snow. The equipment also included their new sleeping bags, another Earth idea. While zippers had not been invented here, yet, she had solved the problem by commissioning large fur panels stuffed with goose down, which could be folded over to make an individual bag, or combined with another to sleep two.

 

Each archer, which included everyone but Eldawyn and Valdimar, had a quiver on their backs, another attached to their saddles. All had voluminous saddle bags, carrying food, potions and other items, while several large insulated water skins hung from the saddle horns. Several of the party had additional weapons hanging from their saddles, ready at hand for mounted combat.

 

Nora had bought some extra pack horses for this expedition, raising the number to nine. The beasts were burdened with three new tents, large affairs of insulated furs, boasting smoke flaps in the center, and a waxed leather covering for the top.  They had a portable spit with cooking pots, and all the pioneering tools she could think of, including shovels, picks and wood axes. And three fire pots, one for each tent, to bring heat into the tents on the coldest of nights. Additional arrows were carried on the horses, along with their supply of wine and more potions. The horses each had a fur blanket as well, also enchanted against frost, making them even more effective. And of course she carried her pistol on her belt, along with a half dozen magazines. Her rifle was on her pack animal, along with ten magazines. She had left her other weapons behind, not wanting to use her precious ammunition until it became necessary, and not wanting to increase their load. She thought the two firearms would be enough. She had brought some additional equipment stripped from Mara's power armor, with plans on how to use it.

 

They only had room for two, maybe three hundred pounds of loot. Nora solved that problem by ordering that only fine items were to be looted. Gems, soul gems, spell tomes, magical jewelry, maybe some rare books. Even Septims might be left behind if they reached their limit. The Dragonborn was getting very good at appraising the value of gems, and they took up less space and weighed less than gold. Even weapons and armor would be left behind unless they were better than what the party already had, a doubtful prospect in most cases.

 

When the rain broke and they could again talk, Nora commented on the usefulness of something that would change the weather.

 

“There are such spells,” said Eldawyn. “Far beyond me those are. Only a master level mage can use them, and masters won't even teach them to someone they don't judge worthy.”

 

“Then I will have to get to that level,” said Nora with conviction, earning a smile from her Altmer friend.

 

“Of course you will. You have more drive to succeed than I ever did.”

 

'“Did you ever think you would be adventuring in such a party?” asked Nora of Valdimar a little further on the road, when she found herself even with the man.

 

“No, my Thane,” said the man, smiling widely. “I never thought I would be among a party so fair, or so pleasant. Or so deadly.”

 

Sofia was saying the words of a spell over and over, making motions with her hands, squelching the spells before they could fire. Nora smiled at that as well. Her spellsword friend had admitted to not studying magic for many years, since she was asked to leave the College of Winterhold. Now she was working on improving herself with new area spells she had bought from Farengar. Nora seeking constant improvement was rubbing off on her people, and all were trying to get better in support.

 

They reached Ivarstead on the evening of the third day, and decided to stay at the inn rather than try to ride up the mountain in the dark with falling temperatures. They had a comfortable night, drying out their equipment and getting a hot bath, the first since leaving Whiterun. Nora got three rooms, and the party split into their groups, Valdimar once again spending the night with Sofia. They were looking like they were going to be a couple, and though Nora missed the attentions of the big Nord, she was happy for her friends. The only regret she had was that she seemed unable to form those kind of long-term attachments with men. And not often with women, though Eldawyn had become a constant in her life. Probably because they were both damaged.

 

Nora woke the next day sore and satisfied. The Altmer was an experienced lover who was endlessly inventive, and Nora thought she could have done much worse. But she still wanted a man at times, and though Elda could use a strapon or a dildo, it just wasn't the same as the real thing. She was still having her period, the fifth day, unusual for a woman who normally only bled for three. Even when her eggs had been nonviable, they had still dropped at regular intervals and filled her body with hormones. Those made her irritable, but the irritability went away when the egg was flushed. But not now, and she was still a raging mass of frustration and irritation.

 

Nora wasn't worried, yet, but was hoping it would regularize in the near future. She swallowed a potion for PMS, which was still occurring in her despite having been well into her period. The potion worked wonders, and she felt the cramps go away, though the irritation and hot flashes were still occurring. Resolving to talk with a healer as soon as she found one, Nora dressed in her armor and went into the common room for breakfast.

 

The day was beautiful, sun shining, not a cloud in the sky. Further up the mountain it would be different, and the party dressed in their winter clothing for the ascent. Nora stopped along the way, saying a prayer to Kynareth as she contemplated each shrine. Each time she felt a small burst of energy imparted to her by the Goddess. It took three hours to go up the steps at a walking pace and stopping, fighting snow and cold the last third of the ascent. The winter clothing worked wonders, and all still felt comfortable when they reached the monastery. The pack horses had been left in the stables in Ivarstead, and the company draped their riding beasts with their blankets before going into the building.

 

“The Dragonborn returns,” said Arngeir, walking forward, his three companions close behind and silent as always. “And with the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller.”

 

“I'm sorry it took so long,” said Nora, wondering if she had been on a timetable.

 

“Time is of no consequence,” said the spokesman of the Greybeards. “It takes what it takes, and all that matters is wisdom gained.”

 

It's like they don't care about the threat hanging over the world. “So, what next?”

 

“First we give you third word of Unrelenting force,” said Arngeir. One of the other Greybeards moved to the side and the Thu’um rumbled from him. The third word, Dah, formed, and Nora absorbed the force to power it from the Greybeards. That done they moved on to the next step.

 

“Stand on the stones where you had received the words of Unrelenting Force, and we will greet you as Dragonborn.”

 

Not sure what to expect, Nora walked over and stood on the stones, waiting, while her people moved to positions against the wall. The four Greybeards arranged themselves on the four cardinal points of the compass. And then, they shouted at her. The cacophony that followed shook her to her very bones, a low rumble that had her thinking she was under attack. But there was no pain, no damage, and she realized they were talking to her in the dragon tongue. The shouts ended, though they still resonated through her, like the bass drums of a fine orchestra.

 

“You are now officially recognized by us as Dragonborn. High Hrothgar is open to you. Including the library and the shrine of Kynareth.”

 

Nora felt a word unlocking in her mind, the power to use it also hers. Phantom Decoy, the ability to summon an illusion, or shatter one to harm and enemy. She wasn't sure what good this shout would do, but she was willing to try it out and see. When facing some not too powerful enemies.

 

“What were you shouting at me?” asked Nora, coming back to the here and now.

 

“Oh, sometimes I forget that you do not speak the dragon tongue, since you learn the words of power so easily. What we said was, Long sorrow await Stormcrown, with no worthy head rest on. By our Dragon shout, Dragonborn, we give it now, by power of Kyne, by power of Shor, by power of Atmora of the old.”

 

Nora wasn't sure what that all meant, but it sounded good.

 

“And when do I meet the leader of your group, Paarthurnax?”

 

“You will know when your voice will open the way.”

 

That was a decidedly cryptic answer, and not what Nora was expecting. She was used to, in her world, of asking questions and getting meaningful answers. Not here, obviously.

 

“I think I am ready now,” she said, feeling frustrated, wanting to see what they had to say.

 

“You are not, Dragonborn. To try the path in your current state of knowledge is to ask for death. Do not be so foolish as to try. When it is time to ascend to meet Paarthurnax, you will know.”

 

Damn, more cryptic answers, she thought. But these guys were the only game in town as far as mastery of the voice went, so she was forced to humor them and play their games.

 

“And how do I go about strengthening my voice.”

 

“Shout to the heavens once a day.”

 

“Did that, every day for the last couple of weeks.”

 

“Stop by the shrines on the way up the mountain and meditate,” continued Arngeir.

 

“Did that, got the T-shirt,” said Nora, getting a little frustrated that they were telling her things she already knew.

 

“Hunt Kyne's spirit animals in the wild. You will know them when you see them.”

 

“Okay. I can do that.” Still not a straight answer, more of the you will know stuff.

 

“Touch the top of the throat of the world.”

 

“And I can't do that until I'm ready to meet Paarthurnax, I assume,” she said, anger flashing through her in bursts.

 

“That is correct,” said Arngeir, bowing. “And carry Kyne's fire up the stairs to the Monastery. Within five minutes.”

 

Shit, thought Nora. She was fast, but probably not that fast. It had taken them three hours on horseback to come up the mountain from Ivarstead. But maybe with whirlwind sprint?

 

“And you should, of course, meditate at the shrine of Kynareth.”

 

Nora thought about that. She had heard that there were seven tasks, and Arngeir had only outlined six.

 

“What is the last one. Tell me, please.”

 

“You are not ready to that one.”

 

“I demand that you tell me,” said Nora in a peevish tone, “so I can prepare myself.”

 

“You do not demand here, Dragonborn. We are sworn to train you, but not to lead you to your death.”

 

“Please, Master Arngeir. Tell me.”

 

“I do this against my better judgment, but since you insist. The final task is to fling your body from the mountain, putting your faith in Kynareth to fall for four seconds.”

 

Shit, thought Nora. She didn't know if she would ever be ready for that trial. It was definitely a leap of faith, and one that she didn't want to think about.

 

“We recommend that you learn all the words of Whirlwind Sprint before attempting that trial,” said Arngeir, bowing to Nora.

 

“And can you teach me those words?”

 

“That is not for us to teach, but for you to learn. We are here to guide you on the path of wisdom and nothing else.”

 

So you're essentially useless to me, thought Nora, feeling her frustration rising, turning and walking away.

 

“I think you should go to the library, Nora,” said Eldawyn, grabbing the Dragonborn by the shoulder and leading her to the back of the Monastery, whispering to the enraged and frustrated woman, “before you say something you'll regret.”

 

Nora walked along with her friend, down the end of the hall and through a door that was now open. Within was another hall, several rooms opening from it. One with a bed, one with a shrine of Talos, and the final room, the largest in the library complex that contained very few books. And there, at the end of the room, was a statue of Kynareth. Not an accurate representation as far as Nora was concerned, but still lovely, surrounded by plants and flowers, graceful birds flying around the figure.

 

“What do I do?” asked Nora, looking at the meditation mat before the statue.

 

“Have you ever meditated?” asked Eldawyn.

 

“It's been awhile.” Nora had been into transcendental meditation in college, and had joined a group that followed a guru in sitting on the side of a mountain. It had been a short-lived adventure, but the memories were still clear.

 

Nora stripped off her clothes, walking to the mat nude, then sitting cross legged in front of the statue. She started into her routine, controlling her breathing, feeling the room, the air on her bare skin, the sound of the birds flapping, the tinkle of a fountains. She slowed her breathing, her heartbeat smoothing out, slowing as well. She sat there for fifteen minutes. For nothing to happen.

 

“I must be doing something wrong,” she hissed in frustration.

 

“Maybe the Goddess is offended by your nakedness,” said Elesia, laughing.

 

Nora turned a glare on the observer, who seem to shrink in on herself, trying to hide.

 

“Perhaps you should focus on the Goddess,” said Eldawyn, nodding to the statue. “After all, you're trying to gain her favor.”

 

Nora smiled, turning back to the statue and again going into her routine, this time locking her eyes on the image of Kynareth. She used the Goddess' name as her mantra, controlling her breathing. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, a metronome that paced her. A minute passed, two, and she when she felt the time was right she came out of her trance, getting to her feet.

 

New words suddenly appeared in her mind. Curse- Mirror, condemning enemies to suffer the same pains they inflicted upon her. Earthquake-Force, slamming enemies to the ground or making her allies as hard as stone. And finally Shroud of Snowfall – Fade, calling up a blinding storm that would cloak her and muffle her steps. With them came the energy of Kynerath, unlocking the shouts in her mind.

 

“I just learned the words to new shouts,” she exclaimed excitedly, almost ready to dance for joy as her mood swung to mania. Three new shouts, and she hadn't had to put herself or her followers at risk. “I'm going to try it again.”

 

It doesn't work that way, child, said the voice of Kynareth in her head. You must quest for new words before I can give you more.

 

“Thank you for the rare gift you gave me, Kynareth,” she prayed, truly grateful to get the additional shouts that increased her range and her power.

 

“We go back down the mountain, now, while we still have light” she told her followers as she put on her clothes and armor, pulling the winter clothing over it. “Tomorrow I will carry Kynes fire from the base to the monastery.”

 

“Why not stay the night?” asked Annekke.

 

“Because there is no shelter for our horses,” said Nora, shaking her head, feeling pissed at the woman for even disputing her orders. “I refuse to let them sit out in the cold at the mercy of wolves and trolls. But I want to have a word with Arngeir before I leave.

 

Nora left the library to search for the old spokesman, to find him kneeling before a small shrine in the hall just outside the library.

 

“Master Arngeir. Kynareth has gifted me with more words of power.  She told me that I must quest in the real world for more before she will give me more. Do you know where any words of power might be?”

 

“We have heard the whisper of a word,” said Arngeir, getting up from his stance and leading the way into a conference room. “Place your map on the table and I will show you where it is.”

 

Arngeir pointed out a place in the mountains in the Rift, then turned to go.

 

“Wait,” said Nora, her voice rising. “Can't you show me any more? So I can gather a bunch before having to come back here.”

 

“That is not the way it works, Dragonborn. We only give one word at a time, and you must return to get more. That way you don't grow your power faster than your wisdom.”

 

“But, I'm trying to prepare to fight the leader of the dragons,” said Nora in an almost scream, her voice rising. “I need those words.”

 

Arngeir merely looked at her sadly and walked away. Nora held her tongue as she walked out of the monastery, mounting her horse.

 

“I am so fucking mad,” she yelled as they rode down the mountain. “I got their fucking Horn, delivered it to them, and expected to have the secrets of the Universe revealed. To get shouted at, then given seven tasks, two of which I can't even fucking do.”

 

“Perhaps you should go ahead and throw yourself off the mountain,” said Elesia, riding beside Nora. “It will probably improve your attitude when you smack into the rocks.”

 

“And what is the address of your fucking Academy, so I'll know where to send your scrawny ass body.” Nora's volume rose as she yelled, the shadow of her power echoing in her voice.

 

“Nora,” said Eldawyn, coming up on the other side. “What's wrong with you. Calm down. This isn't like you.”

 

No, thought Nora, it isn't. Something was wrong with her, and she couldn't figure out what. She was still bleeding, five days after she first noticed her period. That wasn't like her. She had been a regular three-day bleeder from the start of menarche, and something had changed that. She felt hot, as if the hormones that should have abated before she started her period were still coursing through her body.

 

“Something is wrong,” she told her people. “I need to see a healer, as soon as possible.”

 

Elda and Sofia could cast healing. In fact, she could cast healing on herself. But she needed someone powerful in Restoration, who could diagnose what was wrong with her and make it right.

 

Eldawyn cast a spell on Nora and the Dragonborn felt herself calming. “Whatever that was, keep hitting me with it,” said Nora with a slightly slurred voice.

 

They reached the base of the mountain as the sun was going down, some of her followers having gone ahead to see if there was anyone who could help Nora. Annekke came riding up as they went over the bridge. “No resident healer, but there is a visiting priest on pilgrimage at the inn.”

 

“How convenient,” said Nora, barely holding on to her horse.

 

The priest had Nora disrobe down to her small clothes and lay on a bed in one of the rooms, probably the one he had engaged. The man looked at her with mild eyes, probing her abdomen like a doctor on earth, He ran his hands over her torso, the feel of magic radiating from them, stopping at her breasts for a moment, then moving on, then moving up to her neck and probing there.

 

“I think you have a hormone imbalance, possibly caused by an allergy. Have you ever had allergies before?”

 

“Not on this world,” said a sleepy Nora, feeling the effects of the probing magic to go along with the calming spells Elda had used on her.

 

“Not on this world? Whatever do you mean?”

 

“She not from this world, priest,” said Annekke, acting as Nora's spokeswoman during the exam.

 

“Oblivion?” asked the priest in horror, pulling his hands away.

 

“No. Kynareth brought her here to save us all,” said the ranger, not sure herself if anyone who didn't know Nora would believe it. “Do you sense any evil in her.”

 

“No,” said the priest, a follower of Arkay. “In fact, she seems to be radiating an unusual amount of divine energy. Kynareth you said?”

 

“Can you do anything for her?”

 

“I think so,” said the priest, reaching into a backpack and pulling out a glowing bottle. “This will not cure her allergies. She may need direct divine intervention for that. But it will suppress the symptoms for several days. Perhaps she can get in touch with her Goddess for a cure.”

 

Nora drank the potion and was carried to her bed by Valdimar, the companions looking on with concerned expressions. The Dragonborn fell into a deep sleep, and awoke once again in the realm of Kyne.

 

“You seem to be spending a lot of time in the realm of the divines,” said Kynareth, appearing, concern on her face as well.

 

“I made a fool of myself,” said Nora, hanging her head as she thought of the way she had acted toward Arngeir, then her followers.

 

“They understand, at least your followers. And the Greybeards have only your best interests at heart. You must not become so powerful that the power rules you. They are correct in that. But let me see to your problem.”

 

Nora felt magic washing over her again, this time the pure spell of a divine. Kynareth looked at her, then cast another spell. “So that's the problem. You are not as the people of Skyrim. You are, different. Probably because of coming from another world, exacerbated by the changes that have been made to your body.”

 

“I'm human though?” asked Nora, worried that she might be considered some kind of thing in this world.

 

“As human as anyone you will meet. But you have certain resistances, and lack others. Channeling magicka through your body has caused some other changes that are not good.”

 

“But, I'm trying to become a mage.”

 

“And so you shall. Once I find the problem in you and change it. And yes, to answer your unasked question, the humans here are the same as those on your world. We think the humans of this planet originally came from your world, through the veil, to change and evolve into the races you see today. And there,” said the Goddess as a flash of healing power flowed through Nora. “Whatever allergy you had is now gone. When you wake in the morning you will feel wonderful. And your hormones will again be in balance.”

 

“Thank you, my Goddess,”

 

“I take the blame. I should have thought about the differences that might cause you problems. The people of this world live with magic, even those who turn their back on it. Unfortunately, I did not think about that. And you paid the price. But now you are as attuned as any mage of the realm to the magic around you. The Divines are not perfect, though we like for people to think so.”

 

“Why do you tell me this, if it's not common knowledge to the people?”

 

“Because, Nora Jane Adams, you are special. You come from a world, a society, where everything is questioned. That is how you progress in your world. While here most people just believe what they have been taught. Your mind, even though it allows you to use the forces of this world, questions their origins. Not really a problem, and it will allow you to go far in the practice of magic. Now sleep. It will be deep and dreamless.”

 

Nora woke to see three of her friends looking down on her, and she wondered if they had sat up with her through the night. If so, she hoped they had done it in shifts, so they wouldn't suffer through the day. Her mind flashed to her meeting with Kynareth. The Divine had struck her as behaving like some kind of scientist, not a deity, and she wondered if there was an explanation there.

 

“I am so sorry, Elesia,” she told the friend she had threatened to kill the other day. “And to all of you. I acted like an ass.”

 

“We knew something was wrong, Nora,” said the observer in her little girl's voice. “It wasn't like you. You can be a murderous bitch to your enemies, but you are almost always civil, even kind, to your friends. And when you aren't it is for a good reason, and it's in our best interests.”

 

“Wow. And when I die will you nominate me for sainthood?”

 

The three friends, Eldawyn and Annekke along with Elesia, laughed. Lydia and Valdimar stuck their heads in to check on their Thane.

 

“She's back to normal,” said Elesia, looking at Lydia. “For good and bad.”

 

“I'm so relieved,” said Lydia, her face still troubled. “When you threatened to cut my head off, I thought I had failed somehow.”

 

“Oh no,” said Nora, cringing.

 

“So, you feel like making your run up to the monastery this morning?” asked Sofia, also craning her neck to get into the room. “And I've thought of ways to find more words, if you'd like.”

 

“And what is that?” asked Nora, wondering what horrible things she might have said to the good natured spellsword.

 

“Think about it. Most of the words you've found have been associated with Nordic ruins. You know, those big ugly things that sit on mountain slopes. We locate a map of them, and we've found a bunch of word walls. The Greybeards never said that you couldn't find them on your own, after all.”

 

Nora thought that was a great idea. But first, she needed to run up the mountain and get another blessing from Kynareth. If the Goddess wasn't growing sick of her.

 

*     *     *

 

Nora took the flame that didn't burn into her open hand and started running up the mountain, going into a full sprint that no one else on two worlds could match. Except for those who had also imbibed the Supersoldier serum. Not even a vampire, who could move in a blur over a short distance, but not over the medium range like Nora.

 

“Wuld,” she shouted, moving in a blur for fifty yards, coming out of it still in a sprint. The wind whistled by her face, much of it generated by her own motion. Her feet came down hard in each stride, her enhanced muscles pushing her forward into the next step, eating up the distance.

 

Nora shouted again, another fifty yards behind her in an instant. She was sans armor, only her winter clothing, her knife, the pistol and a waterskin carried. As light as she could make herself without risking exposure or death by thirst. She skidded around a curve, her fear rising as she thought she might go off the side of the mountain, almost taking the leap of faith before she was ready. A straight away, more curves, under one of the fallen trees. A bear sauntered into the path, one she had missed on other trips up and down the mountain. Probably because she had always traveled in a group before. She veered around the animal, cursing it under her breath and she ran by.

 

Nora's breath was moving in an out of her lungs, pulled in deep as she tried to control her rhythm. The air was getting colder and was starting to hurt her lungs. She glanced down at her left hand, noting that the flames were still alive. When they died she would know she had failed.

 

I can do this, she told herself as she pushed on, shouting when possible, sprinting when not. Her muscles were doing well, though her breathing rhythm was growing more ragged. She had sprinted many times in the past, and had also jogged for marathon distances. This was a type of running she had never attempted, a long-distance sprint up a mountain.

 

Nora could feel herself flagging. She was burning up her sugar reserves quickly, and was starting to worry that she might not have enough. She stumbled, almost fell, shouted forward, then righted her pace and churned on.

 

“I can do this,” she said under her breath, coming around the last turn and sighting the monastery. She pushed it, her feet hitting hard most of the time, stumbling at others. The door was within reach when she felt herself on the edge of blacking out.

 

“No,” she screamed, forcing herself forward at a stumble, reaching the door and pulling it open, falling into the building, the fire still alive in her hand.

 

Nora felt the burst of energy from the Goddess' blessing, and her power increased.

 

“I did it,” said Nora to herself as she drank in deep breaths of warmed air. She pulled some droughts of sugar water from her waterskin, replenishing her energy.

 

“Yes, you did,” said Arngeir, walking out of the shadows to stand over her. The same dispassionate look he always wore was on his face, and Nora wondered what was going on behind those eyes.

 

“You have done well, again. You are truly blessed by Kynareth.”

 

“Master Arngeir,” she said, struggling to her feet, then bowing her head. “I am so sorry for the way I acted yesterday. Like a petulant child.”

 

“You are forgiven child. We thought there was something wrong, and hoped that you would seek the help you needed. You obliviously did, and you have grown because of it.”

 

Sofia and Eldawyn came running through the door, smiling as they saw their friend talking amicably to the spokesman of the Greybeards. “You made it.”

 

Nora beamed at them, then looked back at Arngeir. “I must go. I have a dragon to meet.”

 

“You must do what you must,” said the Greybeard, nodding. “Grow in wisdom, and return when you have the next word.”

 

Nora's horse was waiting for her outside. She mounted and accepted a package from Sofia, opening it with a smile and pulling out a sweet roll. While riding she wolfed down the rolls, and was well on the way to replenishing her sugar reserves by the time she reach Ivarstead. The party awaited her, horses saddled and pack animals loaded.

 

“Ready to go?” asked Lydia, standing by her mount.

 

Nora thought that she could use a nap, but the road called, and a dragon awaited her.

 

“Let's go,” she said, smiling as her friends quickly mounted their horses. They rode out of Ivarstead prepared for anything. Or so they thought.